The Wings Of My Heart
by ChelseaxQ
Summary: A bounty hunter of the old west is hunting a gang of outlaws, but what happens when he unwittingly falls in love with one of them? Will their love be enough to see them through, will they be able to outrun the past and the prejudice of the times and begin a life together they never thought they deserved?
1. Weary of the Road

**A/N:** So this is going to be a multi-chapter fic. I'll be updating every week, probably on Mondays. Reviews are always appreciated. Hope you like it. :)

I own nothing, all rights and characters belong to Eric Kripke and the CW.

* * *

Chapter One:

Weary of the Road

"There is no better place to heal a broken heart than on the back of a horse."

― Missy Lyons

* * *

June 1881

Cochise County, Arizona

The sun had begun its' swift descent into the horizon and despite the darkening sky the brutal Arizona heat was almost unbearable, radiating up from the sunbaked desert. Two men on horseback, dust-covered and travel-weary rode south desperately seeking an end to the day's journey. The younger of the two, handsome and hazel eyed removed his hat and swept his sweat soaked mop of brown hair out of his face before returning his beaten leather Stetson to its' original position. He shifted in his saddle, trying to alleviate the deep ache in his back. He was unsuccessful. He looked to his traveling companion, saw the rivulets of sweat running down his face.

"How much further?" he croaked out a moment later. His canteen had been empty for a few hours now.

"Not much." The man answered, wiping sweat out of his bright green eyes.

"Good."

"Gettin' sleepy on me Sammy?" the man asked, flashing him a crooked grin.

"More like hot an sore." He answered.

"Should be used ta it by now."

"I know." Sam answered.

There was silence between them for a while as they rode. When Contention City came into view Sam spoke again, quietly.

"Ya think we'll find im here Dean?" he asked.

"Maybe, or it might be jus another let down." Replied Dean. "We'll see."

The two men entered Contention City as the last of the day's light was draining from the sky. They rode through the small mining town till they reached the hotel, which sported a hand painted sign, reading, "Mason's Western Hotel." They stopped outside and dropped heavily from their horses. They hitched their weary beasts outside, grabbed a few of their affects from their saddlebags and trudged inside. Dean headed to the counter and addressed the man behind it. He was an older gentleman, with a heavily wrinkled face and kind blue eyes.

"Ya must be Mason." Dean said.

"That I is, what kin I do ya fer?" Mason asked cracking a smile that revealed a handful of rotted teeth and a great deal of gum.

"Me an my brother need a room fer the night." Dean said. "An some supper too."

"That'll be two dollars." Mason replied promptly. "Ya got horses?"

"Yeah."

"I kin have somebody bring em round to the stables. Get em fed and watered, on'y cost ya another dollar."

"Alright." Dean agreed, reaching into his coat for his coin purse. He dropped a few coins onto the table.

"Room number four." Mason said, sliding a rusted metal key across the counter.

Dean turned and headed for the stairs, his brother following after him. The room wasn't anything to write home about, two single cots and a small table to each. A small desk stood in one corner and in the other, a washbasin with a cracked mirror hanging above it, which Dean was grateful for. It had been days since he'd had a shave and he needed it. They got into the room and shed their dusty traveling clothes before dropping into their beds, gratefully. Sam removed his hat and kicked off his boots.

It was stifling in the room, and he was glad to be rid of the heavy duster he'd worn all day. He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes for a moment. There was a thud on the other side of the room as Dean kicked his own boots off. Dean rubbed a calloused palm over the back of his aching neck. There was silence in the room for several minutes until a knock came at the door. Dean got up and answered it. It was Mason, he held two tin plates and two chipped mugs of ale.

"It ain't much, but it'll do ya jus fine." He said.

"Much obliged." Dean said, unburdening the man.

"How long will ya be stayin'?"

"We ain't certain, we might have business in town. Few days at least."

"Might have business, ya mean you don't know?"

"No sir, not yet." Replied Dean.

"I kin have a pitcher o' water brought up in the mornin' sose ya kin wash up an some breakfast too if ya like."

"That'd be jus fine." Dean said. "We'll be headin' out purty early, got some things ta do in town."

"I'll have it brung up at dawn." Mason said.

"Thank ya much."

"Well, ya'll jus holler if ya need anything else. G'night fellas."

"Alright then, thank ya fer the supper." Dean said, with a smile. "G'night now."

He carried the supper into the room, closing the door behind him. He set a plate and mug down on the end table by the bed Sam appeared to have fallen asleep in. Dean kicked the bed post, startling Sam.

"Cain't go ta sleep if ya ain't had any supper, Sammy." Dean said.

Sam sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Ya sound like Pa." he said reaching for his plate.

"Ya say that like it's a bad thing." Replied Dean, tucking into his supper, a few slices of bacon and half a loaf of bread each. The innkeeper had been right, it wasn't much, but it was more than they'd had all day.

Sam didn't reply, just ate his dinner in silence, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What're ya thinkin'?" Dean asked, swiping a chunk of bread through the bacon grease and eating it with relish.

"Nothin' much." Replied Sam. "Jus…"

"Jus what?"

"Well, we ain't ever seen this feller afore. How is we supposed ta find im?" Sam asked.

"Like Pa taught us, these outlaws is always doin' things big, ya do things big ya leave a trail. Alls we got ta do is follow it." Dean said, matter-of-factly.

"Well sure Dean, but this feller ain't done squat in months, hell he prolly ain't even usin' the same name."

"Calm yasself Sammy." Dean said. "We'll find im, we always do, so quit ya worryin'. Remember what Pa used ta say, worry is like a rockin' horse. It's somethin' to do that don't get you nowhere."

Sam sighed heavily. "Yeah I know, it's jus we ain't ever worked a case wit so little ta go on. I feel like the trail might be cold an maybe our time would be better spent somewhere else."

"Ya mean drop the case, let im go?" Dean asked surprised. "Hell Sammy, Pa'd be rollin' over in his grave if he heard ya talkin' like that. We don't ever quit, never."

"Yer right, I'm sorry Dean. It's been a helluva long day." Sam said. "We'll git back at it tomorra."

"Damn right we will, but we should try'n git some sleep afore then." Said Dean, stifling a yawn.

"Alright, G'night Dean." Sam said, laying his dishes on the end table and lying back in bed.

"G'night Sammy." Dean said, doing the same.

He reached for the gas lamp on the end table and closed the shutter, plunging the room into darkness. Dean lay back on the lumpy mattress and closed his eyes. The room had cooled off slightly, but not by much. He lay there for a few minutes before he heard the unmistakable sound of Sam snoring a few feet away. Riding all day always tired Sam out something fierce. Dean loved it though, loved his powerful black stallion. Baby, he called her. Dean tried to clear his head of any thought, but Sam's words stayed with him.

He thought of the wanted poster, tucked into his coat pocket. A simple piece of paper which seemed to grow heavier with every fruitless day that passed. Maybe Sam was right, maybe the trail was cold. They'd been hunting this guy for months now and were no closer to finding him, they were just running in circles, following up leads based on rumors and hearsay, nothing more. It was getting them nowhere fast. He heaved a sigh and rolled over, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

"Where are ya Jimmy Novak?" he whispered to the empty room. "Where the hell are ya?"

* * *

Dean awoke just before dawn, body stiff and aching from the previous day's journey. He sat up in bed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled his boots on and reached under the bed for the bedpan. Once he had relived himself he walked over to where his brother still slept. Dean always hated waking him up like this, it was the only time he ever looked peaceful. It was no secret to him that Sam didn't feel the same way about the family business as he did, but there was really nothing for it. They were made to do this job, raised to and there wasn't a damn thing either of them could do about it.

He laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, gently. "Sammy." He said quietly. He gave Sam's shoulder a small shake. "Sam." He said a little louder.

With a muffled groan Sam rolled over and cracked an eye open. "What's goin' on?" he asked, voice muzzy with sleep.

"The sun'll be up soon. We got work ta do." Dean said.

A moment later there was a knock at the door. Dean moved to answer it while Sam got out of bed, still half asleep. Dean opened the door to find a young boy, no more than fifteen, holding a tray and a pitcher.

"Mr. Mason asked me ta bring these up fer ya." The boy say.

"Well ya tell im we says thank ya." Dean said, taking the tray and pitcher.

Dean reentered the room and set the tray own on one of the tables and went to retrieve his shaving kit from his bag. He used half the water to wash up and shave, saving the other half for Sam. When he'd finished he found Sam already tucking in and he helped himself to the other plate on the tray. The meal was unchanged from the night before, though the mugs were now filled with some of the strongest coffee he'd ever drunk. They ate in silence for a while before Sam spoke.

"So, what we doin' taday?" he asked. "The usual?"

"Yessir." Dean replied taking a swig of coffee. "On'y thing we kin do."

"Jus, remember what I said las night." Sam said.

Dean didn't reply, just finished his breakfast in silence. A half hour later they were headed out the door, hoping to find more success than they had in the last town they'd been in. They left the hotel and headed for the local sheriff's office. It wasn't a long way and they forewent the use of their horses, figuring the poor beasts could use some rest after the two day's hard riding they'd just been put through. They arrived at the sheriff's office and Dean turned to Sam.

"Listen Sam," Dean began.

"Let ya do the talkin', yeah I know." Sam said begrudgingly.

"Good man." Dean said flashing his brother a smile as they entered the building.

They found a man inside, behind a desk, sporting the familiar silver star on his lapel. Upon seeing them he stood and walked around the desk, hand outstretched. He had a luxuriant chevron mustache and in a contrast that was almost laughable, he had no hair on the top of his head. Dean shook the man's outstretched hand.

"Name's John Behan. Ya must be the Winchester's." he said. "I got a wire from Bisbee this mornin', hear ya huntin' them Angels."

"We is." Dean agreed.

"Meanest gang I ever heard o'." Behan said. "Ya know they got ladies ridin' wit em? Ya never seen the like. An that leader o' theirs, Luke, well ya never heard o' none crueler."

"Yessir, we heard all o' the stories, we ain't heard much truth though. We cain't find em less we know where's we're goin' and tellin' truth we been goin' round in circles for a while now."

"It happens, time to time in this line o' work." Behan said, nodding his head understandingly. "What kin I do ta help you fellers out?"

"We jus need ta know if they's been any newcomers in town recently, unsociable types, maybe gave ya a bad feelin', had an ill look bout em'?" Dean asked. "The Angels are dam near impossible to track, they leave nothin' behind, but they's a rumor one o' them split up from the rest. He goes by Jimmy Novak, though prolly not anymore. If we kin find im, he'll lead us ta the others."

"Hell son, this here is a minin' town. We got folks comin' an goin' in droves, sides if you been huntin' em this long, ya should know by now that they's family, brothers an sisters, an that they'd never let one o' their own leave. Few years back, jus outside o' Adair station in Iowa, they was doin' a train job. Well it went kinda south, one o' the Angels got shot, couldn't ride no more. Stead o' leavin' im behind, ol' Luke shoots im tween the eyes and rides off with the loot. Kilt his own brother sose he couldn't talk, ya believe it?" Behan said.

"I guess we ain't heard all the stories after all." Dean said, brow creased with worry. "Ya don't think we'll find this Novak?"

"I ain't sayin' that, jus you better find im afore ol' Luke does an don't be surprised if he's tightlipped bout the others." Behan said. "I know it ain't much help ta ya, but it's all I know."

"So you knowed you weren't gon be any help ta us?" Dean asked, disappointed. "Then why'd ya come at all, ya coulda wired all this ta us, saved yasself the trip."

"I come down outta respect fer yer Pa, he was a good man." Said Behan.

"You knew our Pa?" Sam chimed in, surprised.

"Back in the day, fore I was sheriff. He was a helluva hunter that one, nothin' got by him. If you boys is half as good as he was, then you'll find yer man." He said, placing his black derby hat on his head.

"Well thank ya fer yer time sheriff." Dean said. "An I hope yer right."

"See ya round boys, happy huntin'." And with the tip of his hat, Johnny Behan was gone.

Sam and Dean exited the building and wandered up Main St. Several people passed them by, one or two giving them a curious look. Beside him he heard Sam sigh.

"I know it looks bad." He said, before Sam could speak. "But we kin still do this."

"How?"

"We split up, ask round town bout newcomers. These people prolly see more'n that sheriff anyhow." Dean said. "Then we see what comes up."

"Ask round town?" Sam asked incredulously. "We ain't amateurs Dean."

"I know but we ain't got a lot o' other options. Jus trust me on this one, alright?"

"Fine, but when nothin' comes o' this don't say I didn't warn ya." Sam said before stalking off angrily.

With a longsuffering sigh Dean began the arduous task of flagging down passersby, showing them the wanted poster, asking them the same questions and getting the same answers. He was about to give up and head back to the hotel when he saw a man eyeing him warily from across the street. The man must have been older than thirty, but he looked younger. He had a mop of tousled brown hair and wore no hat and he had the most striking blue eyes Dean had ever seen. Dean was so stuck by him, he almost didn't see the nervous way he held himself, the suspicion in those eyes. He crossed the street, approaching the man to do what, he did not rightly know.

"Scuse me sir?" Dean began, pulling the handbill out of his pocket. "I'm lookin' fer a man, was wonderin' if maybe you'd seent im round here?"

The man was silent a while, eyeing him critically. Dean felt himself flush under the scrutiny, angry at himself for being so affected.

"You're a bounty hunter?" he asked, voice hoarse and speech more refined than you'd usually find in a place like this.

"Yessir. Name's Dean Winchester. Me an my brother Sam been lookin' fer this feller a while now. Ain't had much luck tellin truth."

"Who are you looking for?" The man asked.

"Man called Jimmy Novak, o' the Wild Angels Gang. Heard o' them?"

"Sure, I've heard of them, but I don't know anything." The man said, not meeting his eyes.

"What's yer name?" Dean asked.

"Emmanuel."

"Well Emmanuel, these people this feller ran with, they wasn't very nice. Me an my brother are hopin' ta get some justice fer some o' the people they's kilt. Now I know ya may not think ya know anything, but even the littlest bit'll help us." Dean said earnestly. "Ya sure ya ain't seent anyone round here didn't look right ta ya? Anyone at all?"

"No, I'm sorry." Emmanuel said. "I need to get back to work." He took a few steps and turned back to Dean. "It's a bad idea, hunting that gang. If I were you, I'd quit while I was ahead. For your own sake, and your brother's." And with that he was gone.

Dean watched him go, watched him enter the local saloon an uneasy feeling in his gut. He walked back to the hotel slowly, an idea forming in his mind. It wasn't much, not by a long shot. But it was a start, and it was more than he had to go on this morning. He arrived at the hotel a few minutes later and found Mason behind the counter once more.

"Hiya" the old man said. "Checkin' out taday?"

"No sir." Dean said. "I think we'll be stayin' jus a mite longer."

"Found that business after all?" he asked.

"Yessir," Dean said thoughtfully. "I jus might've."

* * *

 **A/N:** Fun fact: Johnny Behan was actually the sheriff of Cochise county in the early 1880's and was involved in the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral in Tombstone AZ.


	2. The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

**A/N:** New chapter, hope you guys are liking it so far. :)

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Chapter Two:

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

"Unrequited love is the infinite curse of a lonely heart."

-Unknown

* * *

"Are ya outta yer damn mind?" Sam almost shouted.

"Ya weren't there, ya shoulda seent im. He was scairt Sammy, he knows somethin'." Dean said, placating. "We gotta stay, jus till we figger out what it is."

Sam sighed. "You ain't ever gonna let this one go, is ya?"

"No sir." Dean said.

"Fine." Sam agreed. "One month. Ya got one month ta figger this out an after that, I'm leavin', with or without ya."

"If I ain't found nothin' after a month I'll be right behind ya Sammy." Dean said gratefully. "But that ain't gonna happen, I kin feel it. We almost got these bastards."

"How ya gonna do it?"

"I gotta gain his trust." Replied Dean. "Maybe he saw somethin' put the fear o' god inta im, I gotta find out what he knows."

"An yer sure he knows somethin' bout this gang?"

"Damn right."

"How ya know he gonna tell ya what it is?"

"I'll have ta be purty convincin' won't I?" Dean said with a sly grin.

"Alright," Sam said, chuckling. "Well I leave it to ya then, I ain't much good at talkin' ta folk."

"No you ain't, you an Pa had that in common." Dean said.

"He jus scairt folks inta listenin' to im."

"I'd like ta see ya try that, wit them big ol' puppy dog eyes o' yers." Dean said teasingly.

"I kin be frightenin' when I need ta be." Sam countered, offended. "An what about you, that purty face an big green eyes. Who ya plannin' on scarin' wit that, them painted ladies down the way?"

"Scuse me little brother, but I ain't need ta scare no one. I jus use my chamrs on em and they's putty in my hands."

"Yer gonna use yer charms on this feller too?"

"If I have ta."

"Well good luck wit that." Sam said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Let's hope he got more patience'n I do."

"I am tryin' not ta be insulted here." Dean said.

"Well keep tryin'" replied Sam. "Now if youse finished, I'm goin' ta bed."

Sam laid back in bed and closed his eyes for a moment before something hard and lumpy thumped down right onto his face. He opened his eyes to find he'd been struck with a pillow. He sat up and glared at Dean, who sat whistling and cleaning his nails with a penknife, seemingly innocent.

"Well if ya think yer gettin' this back, yer laughin'." Sam grumbled, rolling over away from Dean.

"C'mon Sammy, that's my on'y pillow. I was only jokin'." Dean whined.

"Too bad." Sam said. That's whatcha git."

Dean turned out the light, sighing and lay back in his own bed, head resting on the hard mattress. He cursed himself for taking things too far, like he almost always did. Dean rolled over a few times, sighing audibly trying to get comfortable.

"Necks gonna be sore as hell." He mumbled to himself.

A second later his pillow landed beside his bed with a thump. With a grin Dean reached for it, placing it gratefully under his head. "Thanks Sammy." He said.

"G'night Dean." Sam replied though the darkened room.

"G'night."

* * *

Dean left the hotel at mid-morning, heading for the saloon. He'd seen Emmanuel headed there the day before and was hoping to find him there. He entered the dimly lit room a few minutes later and was relieved to find the man standing behind the bar. He took a few steps into the room and stopped when Emmanuel looked up at him.

"Ya open fer business?" he asked.

"Sure." Emmanuel replied.

Dean approached the bar and seated himself on one of the rickety stools before it. He took a look around, wooden floor worn from the passage of many pairs of boots, much of the furniture broken and badly repaired. The result no doubt of rowdy customers.

"Can I get you anything Mr. Winchester?" Emmanuel asked.

"Whiskey." Dean replied, turning to look at him. "An ya kin call me Dean.

Emmanuel poured the drink, ignoring his last remark and set it down on the counter before Dean. "We don't usually see many customers this early, what brings you here?"

"Felt like a drink." Replied Dean simply.

"Man's gotta have a lot on his mind to be feeling like a drink before noon." Emmanuel said. "No offense meant."

"None taken." Said Dean. He paused a moment, taking a sip of the whiskey, grimacing as it burned its way down his throat. "Yer right though."

"Am I?"

"This case, its doin' my head in." Dean said, and he was only half acting. "I cain't figger it."

"People have been searching for that gang for years and no one's ever caught them." Emmanuel said. "Why is it so important to you? If you don't mind my asking."

"Pa took the case afore he died." Dean began, before he realized he was speaking. "It's unfinished business an I intend ta finish it."

"Your father was a bounty hunter too?"

"One o' the best, taught me an Sam ever'thin' we know."

"Sam's your brother?"

"Yeah." Dean said.

"What makes you think you'll find them?"

"Faith, I guess." Replied Dean.

Emmanuel scoffed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just…"

"What?"

"Just that I used to be like you." Emmanuel finished. "Lived my life by faith alone. I believed everything happened for a reason, happened because it was always meant to. Then I wised up."

"What happened? If ya don't mind my askin'."

"Nothing much." Emmanuel replied. "One day the wool was lifted from my eyes and I saw my life for what it really was, and I made a change. That's it."

"Ya came here?"

"I never meant to stay, but you know how these things happen."

"Yeah, I do." Answered Dean looking up from his neglected drink, up into those stormy blue eyes. "There's somethin' else though, isn't there?" he asked.

Emmanuel said nothing, still holding his gaze.

"What is it yer so afraid of?" Dean asked gently.

"Nothing." Emmanuel replied forcefully, looking away at last.

"I kin help." Dean said, laying a hand over Emmanuel's on the bar. "Let me help." It was risky, he knew that, but he couldn't help it. Something about this man drew him in, like a moth to a flame, it wasn't even about the case, not entirely.

Emmanuel looked at him, anger flashing in his eyes, but he didn't move his hand. "No one can help me." He said fiercely.

"Do ya really believe that?"

Emmanuel looked away, and Dean gave his hand a gentle squeeze where it lay on the counter.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I don't rightly know." Dean admitted. "Somethin' bout ya makes me want ta help ya."

"You don't even know me."

"We could change that, if ya want to." Dean replied.

Their eyes met again and Dean could see all of the uncertainty in Emmanuel's eyes, he looked like a child, vulnerable and afraid.

"Why would you want to?"

"Does there need ta be a reason?"

Just then the swinging doors of the saloon burst open and Emmanuel snatched his hand away quickly. A man entered and took a seat few stools away.

"Whiskey." He grunted out and Emmanuel moved away to pour his drink.

Dean could tell by the slump of the man's shoulders he was there for the long haul. Knowing he'd not have another moment alone with Emmanuel, he tossed back the rest of his drink and got to his feet. He laid a few coins on the counter and looked up to see Emmanuel's eyes on him. He tipped his hat to him with a soft smile.

"See ya round then." He said and headed for the door.

Emmanuel didn't reply, just watched him walk away, an unreadable expression on his face.

Dean walked back to the hotel, trying to hide his smile. Quite an intimidating image he must strike, walking down the street, grinning like a fool, but he didn't care. He just kept walking. He got back to their room a while later to find Sam inside, packing. Panic gripped his heart without warning.

"What's goin' on?" he asked quickly.

"Don't worry, we ain't leavin' fer good." Sam said. "The sheriff's got somethin' ta show us over in Tombstone. I got the wire after ya left."

"When we leavin'?" Dean asked casually.

"Right now." Replied Sam. "He said it was mighty important. Ya git anywhere wit that feller by the way?"

"Uh yeah, he definitely knows more'n he's lettin'." Said Dean. "It'll take some time to git the whole story though."

"Right well, we'll be back in a day or two."

"Sure." Dean said, moving to pack his own things.

The weight of disappointment had replaced the hand of panic on his heart. 'Two days?' He thought, that seemed like an eternity. And what would Emmanuel say if he found out he'd gone, after his promise. And most of all, why did he care so much what happened to this man? He needed him for a case, that was it. God he wished that were true. They finished packing and hauled their things out to their horses, saddled and ready to depart. Sam lifted himself up onto his horse with ease and Dean was about to follow suit when an idea struck him.

"Hold on fer a bit, will ya?" he asked, heading back into the hotel without waiting for a reply.

"Move yer ass," Sam called after him. "We're losin' daylight."

Dean hurried into the hotel and approached Mason at the counter. "Somebody might be comin' here lookin' fer me whiles we away." He said. "Can I leave note fer im?"

"Of course my boy." Mason replied amiably. He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper and a fountain pen.

Dean paused a moment before writing.

 _ **Gone to Tombstone to see the Sheriff. Will be back in a day or two.**_

 _ **Talk more then.**_

 _ **-D.W.**_

He folded the slip of paper in half and slid it across the counter towards the old man. "Give im this if he comes round."

"Will do." Mason replied. "Safe journey."

"Thank ya." Dean said and made his way outside again.

He found Sam growing impatient and mounted his horse swiftly. "Let's git." He said and spurred his horse on.

"What was that fer?" Sam asked as they neared the edge of town.

"Jus leavin' word fer somebody."

"That feller?"

"Yeah." Replied Dean.

"Think he'll come round?"

"Maybe." Replied Dean, a twinge of something like hope in his heart.

He pushed the feeling back down immediately and spurred his horse on faster, trying to outrun the thoughts that rattled through his skull. There wasn't a horse on God's green earth fast enough for that however and Dean knew it. He decided, just for now, just for today he'd let himself feel what he had not allowed himself to in years. What he'd kept from Sam, kept from himself for as long as he could remember. He closed his eyes for a moment, saw him then, the way he'd looked when he'd first laid eyes on him. He saw the way his face was drawn with worry and wondered what his smile looked like, beautiful if he had to hazard a guess. He heard his voice then, heard his name spoken so clearly he opened his eyes, expecting to see those blue eyes staring at him, filled with a gentleness he had never seen in them.

He opened his eyes and saw nothing but the road before him, and beyond that the desert. He gripped the reigns tighter, a deep longing in his chest to hear his name from those perfect lips. He looked ahead, watched the parched sand disappear beneath his horse's hooves and wished with everything he had, that things could be different. But he remembered his father's teachings and knew they could not. The knowledge had never felt as empty to him before as it did now, on this lonely road to nowhere. He rode on, letting his mind wander to the what-ifs and might-have-beens.

They reached Tombstone within the hour and as they passed within city limits, Dean forced his thoughts back to the task at hand. He followed Sam towards the sheriff's office and they dismounted.

"You was kinda quiet on the way." Sam remarked. "Somethin' botherin' ya?"

"M'alright Sammy," replied Dean. "Jus thinkin'"

They entered the office to find the sheriff eagerly awaiting them. "I got somethin' fer ya boys." He said the moment they were within earshot.

"That's great Sheriff." Sam said. "Whatcha got?"

He reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a sterling silver crucifix from within.

"What's that?" Dean asked, his interest piqued.

"Sit yasselves down, I'll tell ya." Behan said.

They sat themselves around his desk while he took the seat behind it. "This," he began. "Is the on'y thing ever left behind by the Wild Angels."

"A crucifix?" asked Dean. "Makes sense they'd be God fearin' I guess, but how do ya know it belongs to one of em?"

"Some poor bastard pulled it right off o' one o' their necks hisself." Behan said. "They pulled a heist few days back in Wyomin', ain't been in the papers yet. They robbed a bank, made off with jus over three thousand dollars, one o' the fellers workin' at the bank got to rasslin' one of em. Got shot in the gut fer his trouble, but he pulled this off one o'the devils. Folks know John Winchester's sons are on the trail, they sent this along fer ya ta see, figger it'll do ya more good than them."

Behan held the crucifix out to Dean who reached over and took it from him. He peered at it closely and noticed there were words etched upon one side.

 _"They will know that I am the Lord, when I lay my vengeance upon them."_

 _Ezekiel 25:17_

And on the other side, a name.

 _Michael_

"Michael as in the angel?" Dean asked.

"It would seem so." Behan said.

Dean handed the crucifix to Sam to read, who did so with a look of worry on his face. Sam moved to hand the crucifix back to Behan.

"Keep it." The sheriff said. "You'll need it more'n I do fore this thing is done."

"I thank ya fer this Sheriff." Dean said. "This is the best lead we've had yet, don't know what it means yet, but I expect we will. Soon enough."

"Glad I could help." Behan said. "Anything ta see them monsters hangin' from the end o' the noose."

"I know the feelin'" Dean said. "If that's all, I guess we should find lodgins' fer the night. Gon' be dark afore long, cain't be ridin' back wit no moon."

"Hell boys, ya kin stay wit me." Behan said, getting to his feet. "Me and the missus would be proud ta have ya."

"We wouldn't want ta cause ya no trouble." Sam said.

"No trouble at all." Behan insisted. "Sides, my Sadie's a heluva little cook. Better'n anything you'll get at the hotel round here."

"Well, alright then." Dean reaching out to shake Behan's hand. "We really 'preciate this Sheriff."

"Please, call me Johnny." Behan said congenially as he led them from the office. "I'll have yer horses looked after tanight. They'll be saddled up and ready ta go whenever youse are ready."

"We're lookin' ta be headin' back jus after dawn." Dean told him, grateful their stay would indeed be brief.

"That'll be jus fine boys." Behan said.

Together the tree men walked the half mile or so to Behan's home that he shared with his young wife Sadie. They followed Behan into the house where she was in the kitchen fixing supper. Behan approached her and laid a gentle kiss on her cheek. She could not have been more than twenty-five and was very lovely, with big dark eyes and curls of soft brown hair, tied back at the nape of her slender neck.

"Darlin' we got some guests fer supper." He said. "Sam and Dean Winchester, in town huntin' them Wild Angels."

"Oh my," Sadie said, shocked. "Why would anyone go lookin' fer those madmen?"

"We's aimin' ta put an end to em." Dean said. "Once an fer all."

"Well God bless the both of ya." She said. "Ya take yer life in yer hands, that line o' work."

"Yes ma'am."

They sat down to a pleasant meal of a hearty stew, certainly better than the fare Mason cooked up. They talked of local goings on, not burdening themselves with the weight of their work. When they'd finished their supper they were shown to an empty room containing two small cots. Sam and Dean shed themselves of their traveling clothes and readied themselves for bed. Just as Dean was about to turn out the light Sam spoke.

"Ya think this'll change anythin'?" he asked.

"I don't know Sammy." Dean replied thoughtfully. "Could be nothin', could be somethin'. We'll find out soon enough, I expect."

"Sure." Sam said. "G'night Dean."

"G'night Sam." Replied Dean turning out the light and laying back in bed.

He lay for a long time in the dark, thoughts from earlier in the day returning to him unbidden. He found himself, against his wishes longing to be gone from this place, headed back to that dingy saloon. He sighed heavily, knowing no rest would find him that evening. And breaking his promise to himself, he allowed himself to think about Emmanuel once more. Long into the night these visions both thrilled him and terrified him.

He had never before been so affected by another person, especially one he'd known for only a few days. He told himself it was infatuation, nothing more, but he knew the truth of his heart better than he would have liked to admit. His feelings frightened him for their completeness. He tried not to dwell on it and knew that there was little chance his feelings could ever be returned. It did not prevent the small beginnings of hope that blossomed in his chest. Dean closed his eyes and awaited that blessed dawn.


	3. Fear is the Heart of Love

**A/N:** Got a new chapter for you guys today and things are starting to heat up. Hope ya like it.

* * *

Chapter Three:

Fear is the Heart of Love

"Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here."

-Marianne Williamson

* * *

Dean had never been more grateful to be getting in the saddle before dawn, than he was the following morning. They said their goodbyes to the sheriff and his wife and they set out, back for Contention. The ride seemed longer than it had the day before, but at long last they arrived. Dean was surprised that it was an hour after sunrise, it felt more like noon. They made their way back to the hotel and dismounted, leaving their steeds for the stable boy to take care of. Dean dawdled by Baby, talking to her quietly while Sam made his way into the hotel ahead of him. When he was sure Sam had gone, Dean made his way in. As always he found Mason behind the counter.

"Anyone come by askin' fir me?" he asked, a little too hopefully.

"No sir." Replied Mason. "P'raps he got called away too."

"Maybe." Said Dean.

He took the stairs up to their room two by two and entered it to find Sam shaving, a task he'd not had the chance to before they'd left Tombstone.

"I'm feelin' a mite restless from the ride, think I'm gonna take a walk round town." Dean said, casually.

"Sure thing." Sam said, glancing at him. "See ya later Dean."

"Bye Sammy."

Dean left the room again and headed downstairs. He passed Mason who waved happily to him. Once out in the street he made his way for the saloon. He knew it was probably empty, no one would be there tending bar this early, but he had to see for himself. Dean walked quickly down the half empty street, approaching the saloon he saw the closed sign hanging from the door. He peeked inside, but saw no one. Dispirited he considered heading back to the hotel and waiting till noon, but then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A staircase along the side of the building, the saloon had a second floor, probably living quarters for the owner.

Dean hesitated, true he'd never seen anyone else working there, but he also had only been in town a few days. There'd be no knowing what he'd find behind that door. Logic told him to walk away, but before he realized it he was ascending the stairs. He reached the top and taking a deep breath to calm the nerves that fluttered uncertainly in his stomach, he knocked on the door. There was silence for a few seconds before he heard movement from within. Dean removed his hat and ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it down. He replaced his hat and folded his hands before him in what he hoped looked like a casually position. The door opened to reveal Emmanuel, eyes bright in the morning sunlight and hair even more wild than usual. He looked at Dean with surprise.

"Dean?" he asked softly.

"Hiya." Dean said, suddenly shy. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously. "I uhh."

"I thought you'd gone." Emmanuel said.

"Whatcha mean?" asked Dean.

"I saw you ride out of town yesterday, I figured you'd got a lead on your case."

"You thought I wasn't comin' back?" Dean asked surprised. "I left a message at the hotel fer ya, case ya came round. We was on'y gone a day, somethin' the sheriff wanted ta show us."

"Really?" asked Emmanuel. "I didn't know, I thought…"

"You thought I'd up an left after yesterday, after we-" Dean cut himself off. "That's crazy."

"Is it?" Emmanuel asked. "I mean we just met, I'm not anything to you."

Dean looked away, knowing he should keep his mouth shut. "That ain't true." He said. "I meant what I said yesterday." He lifted his gaze, expecting ice in those eyes, but what he saw stole his breath away. A gentle warmth in his eyes and a soft smile at his lips. It was every bit as beautiful as Dean had imagined. He returned the smile, uncertainly.

Emmanuel's expression suddenly turned to one of worry. "This isn't a good idea." He said.

"Why not?" replied Dean taking a step closer.

"Because, I'm bad luck."

"Somehow I find that hard ta believe." Replied Dean.

"It's true, people get hurt around me."

"Listen Emmanuel," Dean began.

"That isn't my name."

"What?"

"Emmanuel isn't my name." Dean saw something in his gaze then that made him believe what he'd said, and something else, a question.

"What is it then?" Dean asked.

"I-I can't tell you, I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not, I mean nobody knows it."

"Are ya in some kinda trouble?" Dean asked taking another step closer, so close he could count the freckles on his nose.

"I told you, you couldn't help me."

"Let me try."

"Castiel." He said looking away, his eyes filling with tears. "My name is Castiel."

A tear slipped down his cheek and Dean reached out, catching it with his thumb. He left his hand there, cupping Castiel's cheek. "That's the purtiest name I ever heard." Dean said.

Castiel lifted his gaze, looking at Dean as though he were trying to see though him, into him. "This is dangerous."

"For who?"

"Both of us."

"I got a purty good idea, it's worth it." Replied Dean and he leaned in, every instinct instilled in him by his father and the life he'd led telling him not to. He ignored them, placing a gentle kiss to Castiel's lips.

He thought Castiel might push him away, instead he wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, pulling him closer. He kissed him back, tentatively. Dean buried a hand in Castiel's hair, all at once the uncertainty and shame seemed to melt away. Here, right here is where he was always meant to be and it scared him. It shook him to his very core that he could love so fully and so quickly, but here in this man's arms, the man with an angel's name, none of it mattered because everything was as it should be. They parted a moment later and Dean stayed close, sliding his hand from Castiel's hair to stroke his cheek.

"I have mentioned this is a bad idea." Castiel whispered.

"Yessir." Murmured Dean.

"Well as long as you know." Castiel said and he was smiling. Somewhere nearby a clock chimed seven. Castiel looked stricken. "Is it that late already? I have to go."

"What? Right now?" Dean asked, heart sinking.

"I've got work to do before we open today, Mr. Niedermeyer will have a fit if I don't" Castiel said pulling away from Dean, reluctance written clearly in his features.

"Well, when kin I see ya again?" Dean asked, hopefully.

"Later, after eleven." Castiel said. "I'll meet you in the stables after I've closed the saloon."

"That a promise?" Dean asked coyly.

"Yes." Castiel said with a laugh.

"Well alright." Dean said, tipping his hat and winking. "See ya then."

"Goodbye." Replied Castiel. "For now."

Dean turned and made his way down the stairs, turning to catch one more glimpse of Castiel before reaching the street once more. The image of Castiel leaning over the railing, smiling down at him eyes shining in the early summer light, would remain with him in perfect clarity for the remainder of his life. Dean sauntered back to the hotel, knowing full well he had the sappiest grin on his face this side of the Mississippi and not caring a jot. He'd never thought of himself as one of those lovesick fools, but he figured it was alright getting proven wrong. He entered the hotel and made his way upstairs. He entered the room to find that Sam had gone out. Dean tapped his foot against the floor anxiously. He had a lot of time to kill.

Dean retrieved his shaving kit from his bag and grabbed the pitcher from the washbasin. He headed outside once more and around back of the hotel where a rickety old well stood. He filled both the pitcher and a bucket and returned to his room, with as little spillage as he could muster. Once inside Dean filled the washbasin and set about shaving, taking his time not miss any spots and once he was satisfied he discarded the sullied water. After he'd finished he dug a bar of soap out of his bag and a wash rag, and grateful that Sam was out he undressed. He washed himself as best he could, wiping away the dirt and grime accumulated from a life on the road. When he'd removed as much of the filth as he could he redressed, feeling slightly fresher than he had before.

Dean checked his watch, certain that several hours must have passed. He was disappointed to find that it had been less than two. He sighed, this was going to be a long day. Dean unloaded his bag of all its weapons and set them on the desk in the corner of the room. He took out a bottle of gun oil and a rag and sat down to the tedious and lengthy process of cleaning his guns. He was just reassembling his Colt 45 when Sam entered the room.

"Sammy." Dean said, happy for the distraction. "Where ya been little brother?"

"Jus around town, talkin' ta folks." Replied Sam. "I think ya might be right bout yer man."

"Ya think so?"

"Yeah, I been askin' bout im. Seems he only got to town a few months ago, an he's been real tight lipped bout where he come from. They say he talks too nice ta be from round here an he never did give no last name. They say Emmanuel prolly ain't even his real name." Sam said. "Seems like he's runnin' from somethin' sure nough."

"Didn't I tell ya." Dean said. "My instincts is good. Ya shouldn't go round doubtin' me, I'm yer elder."

Sam scoffed. "By four years." He said.

"Still, that means ya gotta listen ta me."

"Ya gotta talk to this feller again." Sam said. "I think he might be on the run from this gang, hidin' out sose they don't find im. It ain't no secret how they deal with witnesses, I don't blame im fer runnin'."

"I was gonna see im later, after he closed up the saloon." Dean admitted.

"Really?" Sam asked, surprised. "Since when?"

"I run into im in town earlier." Dean lied. "Got ta talkin'. Seems he does got somethin' on his chest he wants dealt wit."

"Well ya find out what it is." Replied Sam. "We gotta git this finished."

"I know Sam."

At long last the hour struck eleven and unable to wait any longer, Dean crept quietly from the room as not to wake Sam, who'd gone to bed an hour before. Dean made his way downstairs and out the front door. The streets of Contention were deserted and the worn faces of the buildings seemed to stare accusingly down at him. He hurried through the streets, making his way down to the stables at the other end of the small town. He headed around back, and stepped silently into the darkened barn. The deep musk of hay and horse lay heavy in the air. Nearby Dean heard a familiar nicker and took a step closer. Baby, recognizing him at once nuzzled into his hand. Dean paused a moment to stroke her neck. She nibbled at his sleeve, looking for a treat.

"Sorry girl." Dean said apologetically. "I got nothin' fer ya."

Just then he heard rustling from above. His hand shot to his hip where his Peacemaker lay nestled in its holster, but he relaxed when he heard a voice.

"Dean?" Castiel called down quietly. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me." Replied Dean. "Where are ya, I cain't see a damn thing in here."

"Up here, in the hayloft." Castiel whispered. "There's a ladder to your left, and be quiet the stable boys sleeping a few stalls over."

"Right, ladder." Dean muttered to himself, feeling blindly in the dark to his left.

"Your other left, Dean." Castiel said, sounding amused.

"Oh, right." Replied Dean sheepishly, turning around. His hands fell on a wooden rung and he gripped it tightly, lifting his foot till it found the bottommost one. He climbed carefully, making as little noise as he could.

"You're almost there." Castiel whispered from close by.

"How kin ya see in here anyway?" Dean asked.

"I see well in the dark." Came the reply from right in front of him.

A pair of hands landed on his shoulders and guided him that last few steps up the ladder. Dean climbed up into the hayloft, taking one of Castiel's hands in his own. "Ya got a lamp?" he asked. "I cain't see ya none."

"I don't know if we should. Someone could see."

"Open the shutter jus a little." Said Dean. "I ain't seen yer face all day."

There was a small metallic clink and a small shaft of light shot from the lamp Castiel held. "Better?" he asked.

"Damn straight." Dean said, reaching out to draw his thumb across Castiel's cheekbone.

"I missed you today." Castiel said softly.

"I missed ya more." Dean said, aware of how cheesy he sounded.

Castiel blushed. "I've never- I mean this is all new to me." He said.

"Fer me as well." Replied Dean.

"I'm still not sure this is a good idea."

"But I'm convincin' ya?"

"Maybe." Castiel said.

Dean smiled and took Castiel's hand. He lifted it to his lips and placed a tender kiss to his palm. "Are ya gonna tell me what's goin' on, what yer so afraid o'?"

"Not tonight."

"Castiel." Dean began, but Castiel placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

"I will tell you Dean, but not tonight. There are things no one has ever known and that no one probably should know, dangerous things." Castiel said. "And I have to be certain before I tell anyone."

"I understand." Dean said. "I do, It's jus if there's somethin' I kin do."

"There isn't." said Castiel. "Not right now. Right now, I want to hear about you."

"Ain't much ta tell." Dean admitted.

"Somehow I find that hard to believe."

Dean chuckled. "My Pa was a bounty hunter, one o' the best." Dean began. "He quit the life when he met my Ma and started a family. My Ma was kilt when I was four though an after that he got back inta the game, tryin' ta find the man who kilt his wife. He raised me an Sam in the life, taught us ever'thin' we know. That's bout it, we been doin' the job ever since."

"What happened to you mother?"

"Pa made a lot o' enemies, one of em tracked im down. My Ma paid the price."

"I'm sorry." Castiel said sincerely.

"S'all right." Dean said. "It was a long time ago."

"What happened to your father?" Castiel asked. "I mean I've heard rumors, but nothing more."

"He finally caught up ta the man, kilt my Ma. Didn't end the way he was expectin'. Me an Sam was workin' our own job few states over, nothin' we could do. Sonofabitch gunned im down in the street, like a dog."

"Jesus." Castiel whispered, horrified. "That's awful."

"That yella eyed bastard got what was comin' ta him though, I tell ya."

"You've been working with your brother ever since?"

"Yeah, me an Sammy's all we got lef." Dean shook himself as if trying to shake off the memories as a dog shakes off water. "Anyway, there ain't much more to it. What about you?"

"Dean I-"

"I know ya cain't tell me ever'thin', but I meant what I said afore. I wanta know ya Cas, ever'thin' bout ya."

Castiel looked at him, surprised. "Nobody's ever called me that before." He said.

"Sorry, I jus-" Dean began, bashfully.

"No," Castiel said. "I like it."

There was silence between them for a moment before Castiel began speaking, hesitantly at first. "I grew up in a big family. My father was a religious man and raised us to be as well. My mother died giving birth to me and my father never spoke about her much. We moved around a lot, we never stayed in one place more than a year. One day my father just up and vanished, no one ever heard from him again. All I had left were my brothers and sisters, and for a while it was enough."

Castiel paused for a long while. "But?" Dean prompted gently.

"But I got to thinking I wanted more out of life than a life on the rode with them. So I left, I came here and I've been trying to make a life for myself here." Castiel said. "It's not much, but it's mine and it's honest."

"That's all ya kin hoper fer outta life." Dean agreed. "I've found myself wantin' the same things these last few years. I been thinkin' maybe this job'll be my last. I dunno though."

"What?"

"I never known nothin' but the road. I'm not really sure I'd be cut out fer a normal life, life on a farm, or somethin'."

"I think you'd make a wonderful farmer." Castiel said and Dean laughed.

"Ya think?"

"Yeah, I do." Castiel said.

"I dunno." Dean continued, uncertainly. "Maybe all these years I jus been lookin' fer a reason ta settle down. I guess I ain't found a good enough one yet, but maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe that ain't the case anymore." Dean admitted, looking into Castiel's eyes.

He found a gentle kindness there and an affection he had never seen in another. Without another word Castiel closed the distance between them, pulling him into a deep kiss. Dean let himself relax into Castiel's embrace. Castiel gently pushed him down onto the hay beneath them and covered Dean's body with his own. Castiel kissed him with all the desperation Dean felt in his own heart, their lips moving together unhurriedly. And when Castiel pulled away and looked down into Dean's eyes, he knew he had found his reason. Castiel laid beside Dean, resting his head over Dean's heart and they stayed like that for a long time. In the quiet of the stable, only the sound of their steady breathing in the air, till the sun came up in the morning.


	4. Winged Cupid Painted Blind

Chapter Four:

Winged Cupid Painted Blind

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

― Eleanor Roosevelt

* * *

Dean arrived back at the hotel as the sky was growing pink with the morning dawn. He slipped through the front door and up the stairs, hesitating before his own door. He opened the door and was unsurprised to see Sam already up and getting dressed. Dean entered the room and casually moved to sit on his bed. Sam looked at him for a moment without saying a word.

"Ya got somethin' ta say?" he asked.

"You been out all night." Sam said, his back to Dean. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." Agreed Dean, he couldn't lie to Sam if he wanted to.

"Ya sure that's wise?"

"Whatcha mean?" Dean asked, though he already had a pretty good idea.

"You know what I mean." Sam countered turning to face his brother. "Look I ain't tryin' ta tell ya yer business."

"Then don't." replied Dean a little more forcefully than he'd intended. He got to his feet, walking to the window, his back to Sam now.

"All I'm sayin' is ya gotta be careful Dean." Sam said. "Last time you was lucky, Pa was there."

"Lucky?" Dean asked horrified, turning to glare at Sam. "They's a lot words I'd use ta describe that day, but lucky ain't one o' them."

"I didn't mean it like that." Sam said gently. "Jus that we got a job ta do an we don't need the distraction."

"Yeah?" asked Dean derisively. "An I bet if it was some painted lady down the way, we wouldn't be havin' this conversation."

"You think that's what this is about?"

"It's what it's always about." Dean spat. "Wit Pa, wit ever'one."

"I ain't Pa." Sam said. "You know it ain't like that wit me. I jus don't wanna see you git hurt again, Dean. Yer my brother an I love you."

The sincerity in Sam's voice erased any of the venom left inside him. "I know." He said quietly. "I didn't mean fer it ta happen. It jus did."

Sam ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "We got a month Dean, jus 'member that." He said. "We cain't linger after we's done here. Find out what ya can, an we's gone, like we planned. Yeah?"

"Yeah." Dean agreed, though the twinge of pain in his chest begged to differ. "Like we planned."

* * *

Dean was laid out on his bed, his hat pulled low over his eyes to block out the midmorning light. He wasn't so much weary as bored and he'd decided to rest a spell. Sam had gone out after their little spat and Dean was left to his own devices. He had just begun to doze when he heard a knock at the door. He got to his feet and moved to answer it. It was Mason.

"A message came fer ya." He said. "From the feller down the saloon."

"Ya got it here?" asked Dean a spike of excitement shooting through him.

"Yessir." Mason said handing Dean a slip of paper.

Dean unfolded and read, trying to appear unmoved.

Dean,

I've closed down the saloon for the day. I thought we could spend the day together today. I have an idea of something off the beaten track. If you're interested, meet me on the North edge of town with your horse at noon. Hope to see you there.

-Castiel

P.S. Don't tell anyone where you've gone and burn this as soon as you've read it.

Dean suppressed a smile and reached into his pocket removing a gold coin. He pressed it into Mason's hand.

"Thank ya." He said gratefully.

Dean reentered his room and reluctantly fished out a match from his coat pocket. He popped the match with his thumb, reading the note once more before he lit one end of the slip. He let the fire catch before he dropped it into the empty chamber pot at his feet where it burned out moments later, leaving a small pile of ash in its' wake. He checked his watch, it was eleven. He'd have enough time to retrieve his horse before meeting up with Castiel. He considered leaving Sam a note telling him where he'd gone and thought better of it. He put his hat on and leaving his coat behind, he left the room, a decided lilt in his step. He reached the ground floor and on a whim called out to Mason as he passed.

"If my brother gits back afore I do, tell 'im I went out fer a spell."

"Will do." Came the reply, but Dean was already out the door.

Dean hurried over to the stables, Baby greeting him joyfully when he entered. Sam's horse was nowhere to be seen.

'Musta gone out fer a ride.' Dean thought to himself.

He saddled his horse, while she shifted anxiously under his hands. She wasn't used to going so long with so little travel. She was getting antsy.

"Sorry girl, been neglectin' ya lately ain't I?"

She huffed out a breath in response, nuzzling into his hand. He led her by the reins out of the stable and out into the street, tipping a coin into the hand of the stable boy as he went. Dean ran his hand down the powerful length of the mare's neck before mounting. He spurred her on and headed for the north side of town, waving to folks as he passed by. A few minutes later the buildings became less frequent and he knew he was reaching the end of town. He stopped just before a sign marking the Contention City limits. He waited anxiously for Castiel to appear. He checked his watch, he was still a few minutes early. Just as he'd begun to convince himself that something must have happened, that Castiel wasn't going to show, he heard the sound of a horse approaching. He turned in his saddle to see Castiel riding up behind him on a pretty painted mare.

"Thought you wasn't gonna make it." Dean said with a smile.

"It'd take more than Mr. Niedermeyer to keep me away." Castiel replied.

"Glad ta hear it." Said Dean. "Whatcha plannin' anyway?"

"Follow me." Was all Castiel said and spurred his horse into a trot.

Dean followed him, bringing Baby in step alongside the other horse. Dean stole a glance at Castiel, he was biting his lip and wore a look of deep concentration. Dean smiled to himself at the sight. With a jolt, he remembered Sam's words and forced his gaze away. They rode on for a few minutes before Castiel turned off into a copse of trees. Dean followed and a second later they were met with the sight of the San Pedro River, flowing swiftly southward toward Pima County. The afternoon sunlight glinted off the flowing water, throwing dazzling shards of light in every direction. Dean looked at Castiel, who returned his gaze a little shyly.

"I haven't been for a swim in a long time." He said.

Dean grinned. "This was a great idea." He said dismounting in one fluid motion.

Castiel followed suit and they both secured their horses' reigns to a nearby tree. Castiel stepped up to the edge of the water, gazing into its crystalline depths. Dean walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"I'm glad we're doin' this." He murmured.

"Me too." Castiel replied.

"Ya know," he said coyly. "We ain't got no swimming costumes."

Castiel turned in his arms, blushing. "That's okay."

He took a step back and removed his herringbone vest, dropping it to the ground between them. He then reached up to began undoing the buttons of the white cotton shirt he wore. Dean followed suit, removing his hat, then shrugging off his sheepskin vest before reaching for the buttons of his blue chambray shirt. Dean watched admiringly as Castiel's shirt fell away, revealing his taut, lean abdomen. Castiel caught him looking and blushed furiously. Dean tugged the black cotton kerchief from around his neck and tossed it down onto the growing pile of clothing between them. He unbuckled his holster and dropped his gun to the ground slowly. Both men paused a moment, looking at each other. Dean reached for the top button of his black trousers and popped it, Castiel watched him.

He kicked his boots off and undid a second button. Castiel removed his own boots and falteringly reached for the buttons on his own brown trousers. Dean tugged his trousers down and kicked them off, standing before Castiel in his white cotton drawers which came to just below his knee. He saw how Castiel's hands shook and he took a step forward, placing his hands over them gently. Castiel drew in a sharp breath and looked up at him. Dean slowly unbuttoned Castiel's trousers for him, fingers brushing against Castiel's belly as he did so. Castiel stifled a gasp and Dean chuckled.

"Thanks." Castiel said shakily.

"Don't mention it." Replied Dean with a smile.

Dean sensed Castiel's uncertainty and turned his back, taking a step toward the water. When he looked back Castiel had stepped out of his trousers and was moving to stand beside him. Dean held out his hand to him.

"C'mon." he said.

Castiel took his hand and together they waded into the river. The water was surprisingly cold for the time of year. There had been a lot of rainfall and the water moved too fast to be warmed by the hot Arizona sun. They stood waist deep in the river and Dean grinned at Castiel who shivered slightly in the chilly water.

"Water's fine." He said.

"Oh yes." Agreed Castiel. "Wonderful."

"Once ya been under it won't be so bad." Dean said and as if to prove his point, he dunked under the water.

He resurfaced a moment later, shaking the water off like a dog, splashing Castiel. "See?" he said.

Castiel took a deep breath and slipped beneath the surface. He returned a second later, gasping. "It's freezing." He said.

"C'mere." Said Dean, holding out his arms. "I'll warm ya up."

Castiel let himself be taken into Dean's arms. "Better?" Dean asked.

"Mmmm, yes."

Dean ran a hand down Castiel's spine, and felt him shiver. He wondered if it had anything to do with the water's temperature. He caught Castiel's chin with his other hand and tipped his face up to look into his eyes. There were a thousand words on his tongue, but none of them good enough. There was something he needed to say, but he didn't know how to. Castiel removed the choice for him when he brought their lips together in a tender kiss. Dean rested a hand on his cheek, gaze taking in every detail of the man before him. He had not forgotten his promise to his brother, but he was beginning to doubt his own ability to keep it.

"How'd I git so lucky ta find you?" he asked, more to himself than anything.

Castiel smiled. "I'm the lucky one." He said.

Dean pulled him in for another brief kiss before letting him go and quickly swimming away. Castiel looked after him disapprovingly. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Whyn't ya catch me an find out?"

With a laugh Castiel swam after him. It took him a while to catch Dean, who was a skilled swimmer, but when he did he jumped atop him like a rowdy teenager, pulling them both underwater. They broke the surface laughing and blinking water out of their eyes. Dean grabbed hold of Castiel's hand and pulled him closer.

"I wish it could be like this all the time." He said.

"Why can't it be?" Castiel asked.

Dean kissed him, deeply and with all of the aching longing in his heart because he knew the truth. In three weeks' time, he'd be riding from Contention, like he'd ridden from a thousand towns before, but never had he left so much behind. He pushed the thought away, ignoring the pain that went with it. Neither of them knew what the future held, but for right now Dean wasn't taking anything for granted. He would make the most of every second he had here. He deepened the kiss, Castiel parting his lips to allow him access. Their mouths moved together with heat and a mounting eagerness. Dean's tongue explored the hot cavern of Castiel's mouth, their bodies flush together, warm despite the coolness of the water. Dean took Castiel's lower lip between his teeth, nibbling gently and Castiel let out a soft moan.

Dean pulled back enough to look him in the eye, saw the heat in his gaze that matched the hunger he felt. He lifted Castiel into his arms, the other man wrapping his legs around Dean's waist. Dean walked them slowly toward the banks of the river, never breaking their gaze. He carried Castiel out of the water and laid him gently in the grass at the river's edge. He kissed him again, slower. Castiel ran a hand down Dean's chest and Dean shuddered.

"Dean I." Castiel whispered uncertainly.

"S'all right, Cas." Dean murmured, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I've got you."

Dean kissed his way down the column of Castiel's throat, the feel of delicate skin beneath his lips almost electric. He peppered kisses across Castiel's chest, moving steadily lower. He reached the hem of Castiel's drawers and Castiel gasped. Dean sat back on his haunches and rested his hands on Castiel's hips, as if asking for permission. Castiel looked up at him, lust-blown eyes half-lidded, and canted his hips upward into Dean's touch. Dean began tugging at the long underwear Castiel wore, the soaked cotton clinging to his skin. Dean struggled a moment with the garment before Castiel laughed softly.

"Here." He said with a smile, reaching down to help Dean.

Their hands touched briefly in the tangle of cotton and limbs, sending a thrill through Dean. The brief touch one of the most erotic things he had ever experienced. Castiel helped him out of his own underwear and they lay side by side in the grass for a moment, gazing at one another. Dean rested a hand on the side of Castiel's neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Castiel was trembling. Dean pulled away, concerned.

"You alright?" Dean asked softly.

"Yeah." Said Castiel. "I just, I've never done this before."

"We don't have-" Dean began.

"No, I want to." Replied Castiel. "I want you."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

Dean kissed Castiel again, softly and moved to lay atop him, covering his body with his own. Their growing erections slid together, eased by the dampness of their skin. Dean planted his knee between Castiel's thighs and ground his hips into Castiel's. Castiel gasped and thrust upward eagerly. Their bodies moved together fluidly, movements languid and unhurried. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, pulling him closer as he thrust up, grinding their cocks together deliciously. They both moaned and Dean quickened his pace. Breathy little gasps escaped Castiel's throat with every thrust, cocks trapped between their bodies, slick with precum and sweat. Dean ached through every inch of his soul to be closer to the man beneath him, to merge their bodies, their souls, to never have to let him go.

He reached between them, taking their cocks in his hand, stroking them together. Castiel clung to him, moaning out Dean's name in a way that sounded like prayer. Dean jerked their cocks faster, meeting Castiel's eyes in a gaze filled with heat and hunger and an unbearable, desperate need. They came together a second later, pleasure lancing along Dean's spine as they spilled their seed between them. Dean continued to stroke them for a moment after, milking them for every drop, shudders running through them simultaneously as if they shared one body. Dean released them and rolled off of Castiel, lying beside him. He gathered Castiel into his arms and they lay together in the grass beneath the hot sun. There was silence for a long time where all that could be heard was the swift current and their ragged breathing. Castiel was the first to speak.

"I think I'm in love with you, Dean Winchester." He said and Dean's heart overflowed with joy.

He leaned back so that he could gaze into Castiel's face. "I know I'm in love with you." He said, grinning.

"I've never felt like this about anyone." Castiel said. "It's…"

"Scary?"

"Yeah." Replied Castiel meeting his eyes. He sat up, looking away from Dean. "It's like my heart is a bird in your hands, wings beating wildly against your palms and it would be so easy for you to let it go and then…I'd be lost."

"I won't ever let go, Cas." Dean said and he knew deep in his heart that it was true. Despite his promise to his brother, he knew. "Never."

"Promise me." Castiel said, looking at him once more and the fear and desperation in his eyes startled Dean. "Promise me, whatever happens we won't ever let go."

"I promise you, Castiel." Dean said, laying a hand on his cheek. "You don't ever have to be afraid again."

Castiel kissed Dean then and Dean had never believed a kiss could be so filled with passion and love. They parted a moment later, staying close

"I love you." Castiel said. "With all of me, forever, I love you."

Dean pulled Castiel into his arms, holding him tightly. He pressed a kiss to Castiel's temple, murmuring over and over again. "I love you."

It was a long time before they got to their feet and began gathering their clothes together and they both knew, somehow things had changed for them, irrevocably and forever. But what they did not know, and what they could not know was whether, or not it would be enough. Whether their promise would carry them through the storms that lay ahead, or crumble like so many grains of sand.


	5. Kneeling in Silence

**A/N:** Got some angst for you today, sorry guys. Hope ya like it anyway.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Kneeling in Silence

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves. By each let this be heard. Some do it with a bitter look, some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss, the brave man with a sword"

― Oscar Wilde

* * *

Dean woke early one morning to find Sam already up and dressed. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes groggily.

"Mornin' Sammy." He said.

"Mornin' Dean." Replied Sam curtly.

"Whatcha doin' up so early?"

"We got work ta do taday." Sam said. "We been at this too long. We got four days till we're outta here an ya ain't fond nothin' out, so I'm gonna talk to this feller myself."

"Woah, woah." Dean said jumping out of bed. "Easy Sam, that ain't necessary."

"Really Dean?" Sam countered. "Cause I'm startin' ta think this feller never knew nothin' at all, that ya just lied ta stay here an…"

"An what?" asked Dean. "Go on say it."

"Bed im." Sam said, not looking at his brother.

Dean laughed derisively, a harsh sound to his own ears. "That what ya think?" he asked.

"I don't know what ta think, Dean." Sam said helplessly. "I jus know we been here too long an that gang hit another train two days ago an kilt two men. We gotta do somethin' here man, people are dyin'. That ain't how Pa raised us."

"I know Sam." Dean said with a sigh, sitting heavily on his bed. "This ain't the way I was plannin' it neither. We got four days, I'll git ya somethin'. I promise."

Sam nodded. "Alright."

Dean dressed himself slowly, thoughts moving sluggishly through his mind, as if through molasses. His month was almost up, he knew nothing of Castiel's past, and Sam was growing restless. He had stopped prying for the truth from Castiel early on, knowing that when he found out he'd had to leave. He didn't know what he'd been hoping for, more time, for someone else to stop the gang for him. Either way he was out of time, and he didn't know what to do.

He set out from the hotel, heading for the saloon. It was too early for Castiel to be working, but he hoped to find him in the room he occupied upstairs. As he walked he tried to think of a way around it, this big hulking thing in his path. He considered sending Sam after the gang without him, but knew he could never do that. He thought maybe he could leave Contention as planned, deal with the gang and perhaps return, hanging up his guns for good. He dreaded every second he'd spend away from Castiel, but if it meant they could be together, it was worth it.

Dean reached the saloon and headed up the stairs, his thoughts still in a whirlwind. He knocked but no answer was forthcoming. He knew he couldn't wait out here until Castiel returned, it would be unwise to be seen lingering outside his door. Dean considered going back to the hotel, but dismissed the idea. He tried the handle and found it unlocked. He stepped inside the room to wait for Castiel to return. He glanced around the room, having only been inside a handful of times. It was sparsely furnished, a bed sat in one corner with a large trunk at its foot, filled with Castiel's personal effects. A small dresser stood to one side of the room and save the threadbare rug beneath his boots, there was nothing else in the room. He moved to sit on the bed, not knowing how long he'd be waiting.

Dean ran a hand over the sheets, smoothing them down and smiled to himself. After a moment of hesitation he lifted the pillow from the bed and brought to his face, inhaling deeply the scent he loved so well. At that moment a glint of silver caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Curiously he reached for it, lifting the silver chain which had been nestled under the pillow. At the end of the chain hung a sterling silver crucifix and with a mounting sense of unease, Dean noticed words etched upon one side. He read the words, knowing before he did, what they'd say.

"They will know that I am the Lord, when I lay my vengeance upon them."

Ezekiel 25:17

His heart dropped like a stone in his chest, hardly daring to breathe he turned it over, praying this was a nightmare he'd soon wake from. He read the name printed on the other side.

Castiel

Realization slammed into him with such force the breath was literally knocked from him. The truth, so long kept from him now stood before him in all of its unutterable horror. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, lovesick as he'd been. His thoughts were so preoccupied that he didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs, the door open. He looked up only when he heard his name spoken, in the voice he'd grown so familiar with. His eyes fell on Castiel, standing in the doorway smiling at him. His eyes shifted to the crucifix clutched in Dean's hand and the smile slid from his face. Dean stood, taking a step toward him.

"What is this?" he asked, though he knew full well.

"It's just a crucifix." Castiel stammered. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Dean asked, reaching into his breast pocket where he'd kept the other crucifix since he'd found it. He threw it at Castiel, who caught it and looked at it with horror. "So it's just a coincidence ya got the same damn crucifix as the member o' that gang?"

"Where did you get this?" Castiel asked, fear in his voice.

"It don't matter where I got it." Dean spat. "You lied ta me."

"I never lied to you Dean. I just couldn't tell you the whole truth. I'm sorry, but you have to believe me, I would if I could have. Please." Castiel said desperately moving toward him. Dean took a step back.

"You're Jimmy Novak. You're one o' them." Dean said, refusing to look at him. "You been playin' me this whole time, like a goddamn fiddle. How could I be so blind?"

"No!" Castiel shouted. "That isn't true. I meant everything I said to you Dean. I love-"

Dean drew his gun rapidly, leveling it at Castiel's chest, cutting him off. He didn't know what he was doing, didn't know what was happening. All he knew was that there was a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be and pain surged through him with every breath he took.

"Don't you dare say that to me." Dean spat out viciously. "You done enough lyin'."

"I'm not lying." Castiel begged, tears in his eyes. "Please, just let me explain."

"I'm done listenin'." Dean said. "Outta respect for how I felt about ya, I won't kill ya now. I won't even turn ya in, but don't ever let me see ya again."

Dean lowered his gun and shoved past Castiel toward the door. A broken sob reached his ears before he slammed the door shut. He hit the street a moment later, almost running, shoving Castiel's crucifix into his pocket. He reached the hotel and blew past Mason who tried to say something to him, he rushed up the stairs and hesitated outside the room he'd shared with his brother for almost a month. He leaned against the wall trying to get himself under control before he entered the room. Tears stung his eyes and he exhaled a shuddering breath. He swallowed the sobs trying to claw their way up his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. A tear slid down his cheek and he lifted a shaking hand to wipe it away. A few more deep breaths and he knew he was as calm as he'd ever be. He opened the door and Sam looked up, startled.

"What's goin' on?" he asked.

"Nothin'." Dean said brusquely. "We're leavin', right now."

"What? Did ya find somethin' out?"

"No. You was right, he didn't know anythin'." Replied Dean, hauling his bag onto the bed and stuffing his things into as quickly as he could.

"Are ya sure?" Sam asked, uncertainly. "What's yer hurry, did somethin' happen?"

"Listen Sam." Dean said forcefully, dropping his bag and looking at his brother. "There'll be time fer explainin' later, right now we gotta git outa here."

"Alright." Sam conceded. "Jus calm yaself, we'll go."

Dean lifted his fully packed bag from the bed and headed for the door. "I'll settle up with Mason and meet you at the stables. We're outta here in a half hour, no longer."

Dean had both of their horses saddled and ready to ride by the time Sam showed up. He moved quickly and efficiently focusing intently on the task at hand. He forced all other thoughts away, and forced his pain and anger down, like bile in the throat. Dean mounted up and Sam followed suit. Before Dean had the chance to get moving Sam spoke.

"Wait Dean." He said and Dean turned to look at him. "Are ya sure ya wanna do this?"

"What do ya mean?"

"I mean if somethin' happened, 'tween you an that feller, maybe runnin' away ain't the best idea." Sam said slowly, as if speaking to a frightened animal.

"Sam, you got no idea what's goin' on alright." Dean said. "We're goin'."

"I jus don't want ya ta regret this later."

"I won't." replied Dean fiercely and drove his spur into Baby's side.

He took off at a gallop and Sam struggled to catch up. Dean rode through Contention quickly, vying for the edge of town. When he passed the saloon he urged his horse on faster and spared it no attention. At last they reached the town's border and when they finally passed out of Contention, it felt like letting out a breath one had held too long. Dean slowed a bit, but still kept a brisk pace. He wanted to be as far away from this place as soon as he could manage it.

* * *

Dean was running as fast as he could, his lungs burned and it felt as if his veins pumped battery acid, but he didn't stop. Fear and desperation drove him onward, kept him putting one foot in front of the other. He ran through a field and into some brush. He was ducking under a low-hanging tree branch when he heard voices, raised in anger. He followed them. He reached the edge of a copse of trees and that's when he saw them. Four large men and a young boy, maybe fifteen. Two men held the boys arms, while the other two looked on, one held a length of rope. One of the men drove his fist into the boy's stomach and Dean's heart clenched. He took a step forward, opening his mouth to scream.

"D-" he began, but a hand clamped over his mouth, cutting him off.

A pair of strong arms pulled him back. Dean struggled against them as he listened to the dull thuds as the men continued to beat the boy. Dean was blinded by rage and terror. He needed to save him, he had to, but he could not break free of the grip he was in. He heard the voices again as he was dragged off.

"Git im' up there, Roy." One said.

There was the sound of a scuffle and what seemed like an eternity later Dean heard a dull crunch and the creaking of a swinging rope. He fell to his knees sobbing quietly. He was lifted and carried away. Voices spoke to him, low and soothing but he did not hears the words.

Dean jerked awake with a start. He was sweating and his heart hammered wildly in his chest. He sat up in bed and tried to catch his breath, trying to will away the images the dream had conjured up. The nightmare had not plagued him for years, but it had resurfaced over the last month. Dean told himself he didn't know why, but it was a lie. He got out of bed and dressed in the darkness of the room, quietly as not to wake Sam. He left the room and headed down the hall. A moment later he was stepping outside into the pre-dawn darkness. He turned left and just walked, hoping the fresh air would remove the last clinging threads of unease the nightmare had left him with.

He walked for a long while, absentmindedly fiddling with the silver crucifix he now wore tucked inside his shirt. They were in a town called Huachuca City, working a small case. They had agreed to take a break from hunting the Wild Angels for a while, at Dean's behest. It had been a month since they had so abruptly vacated Contention City and it had not gotten any easier. Dean filled his days with work and tried not to think of anything else. He had not yet told Sam the details of what had happened and Sam did not pry, for which Dean was grateful. Sam looked at him sometimes though, like he knew exactly what had happened and knowing Sam, he probably did.

Dean walked until the sun came up, wishing he could walk far enough to leave his memories behind. The ones that sprung up suddenly and without warning, little things that sent fresh waves of pain through him. With a sigh Dean turned around and headed back to the hotel. He entered the room to find Sam just waking up.

"You're up early." Sam noted.

"Couldn't sleep." Dean lied.

"Ya had the dream again, didn't ya?"

"Maybe."

"Dean, if ya wanta talk about it." Sam began.

"No." Dean said forcefully. "I mean there ain't nothin ta talk about." He added more gently.

"We both know that ain't true."

Dean sighed and took a seat at the edge of his bed. "I don't know what ya want me ta tell ya."

"Tell me the truth, Dean." Sam said gently. "What happened back in Contention, 'tween you an Emmanuel."

"That weren't his name." Dean said. "It was Castiel. I knew from the start he was runnin' from somethin', I jus didn't know what. Not till it was too late"

"What was it?"

"He was one o' them." Dean said, reaching into his shirt and pulling the crucifix out. He took it off and handed it to Sam. "He was in that gang."

"He's the one we was lookin' fer, Jimmy Novak?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't ya tell me sooner?" Sam asked.

"I couldn't." replied Dean wearily.

"You loved im'" said Sam.

"Yeah I loved im', more'n anything." Dean said hollowly. "An he lied ta me."

"I'm sorry Dean." Sam said handing the crucifix back to his brother.

"Me too."

There was silence between them for a moment before Dean got to his feet.

"We should git goin'." He said. "We got a bounty ta collect."

"Right." Sam said, standing. "Less go."

They headed for the sheriff's office. The bounty was for a local man, accused of stealing horses from the nearby farms. They had tracked him to small cave in the Santa Rita Foothills. He'd come quietly enough and it had been a short ride back to the sheriff's office. Now all they had to do was collect their money. After that however, was a different story. The future was uncertain and Dean had no intention of thinking on it too hard, it hurt too much. They would take the work they could and do their jobs, like their Pa had taught them, saving folks, hunting outlaws, the family business.

Sam and Dean entered the building to find the sheriff behind his desk, waiting for them.

"Howdy boys." He said gleefully. "Got yer money all ready ta go. Five hundred dollars, not bad."

"No sir." Replied Sam.

The sheriff handed Dean a burlap bag containing a small mountain of bills. "Count it will ya Sammy." Dean said, handing the bag to his brother. Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation, but did as Dean had asked.

Sam finished counting the money. "It's all here, Dean." He said.

"Alright then, guess we'll be on our way." Dean told the sheriff.

The man stood and held his hand out to Dean, who shook it. "Thanks fer the help boys." He said.

"No problem." Replied Sam. "It's our job."

They turned and headed for the door when two deputy's entered the room.

"Kin ya believe it?" one of them said. "They's hangin' a feller fer sodomy few towns away taday."

"Yer kiddin' me?" the other one said. "Where?"

"Uhh, Contention, I think." The first man said. "What's comin' ta the world, I ask ya?"

"Some folks is jus sick."

Dean, seized with panic grabbed the first man by the front of his jacket. "What's his name?" he asked.

"What?" the man asked, slightly cowed by the fire in Dean's gaze.

"The man they's hangin', what's his name?"

"Uhh, I dunno." The man said. "Elroy, Elmer, somethin' like that."

"Emmanuel?" asked Dean.

"That's right." The man said, nodding furiously. "They's hangin' im' at noon."

Dean looked at the clock on the wall, 7:45, a little over four hours. He let the man go and rushed from the building. He ran through the streets back to the hotel, Sam close at his heels. He burst into their room and began gathering all of their guns, leaving the rest of their gear untouched. Sam entered the room a moment later.

"Easy Dean." He said, but Dean paid him no mind. "Will ya calm down a minute?"

"There ain't time." Dean said. "I gotta git back there."

"Are ya sure that's wise, I mean if they know about im' then they prob'ly know about you."

"I don't give a damn what they know." Dean shouted. "I'm not lettin' this happen, not again an if ya jus wanta stand there, that's fine. I don't care if they kill me too, I'm goin'."

"Alright." Sam said. "Take only what we need, we gotta ride light."

"Thank you Sam." Dean said and maybe the fear showed in his eyes, or maybe his brother knew him too well for his own good, but Sam pulled him into a brief crushing hug, alleviating some of the panic clutching at his heart.

"Less go git im'."


	6. Sigh No More

Chapter Six:

Sigh No More

"Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it."

― Mark Twain

* * *

Dean spurred his horse on faster, panic and fear driving him on. They'd left their horses in Huachuca and donned kerchiefs over their faces. They'd be too easily recognizable otherwise. To Dean it felt like all those years ago, but he knew this time he'd do what he couldn't before. The alternative was too horrible to conceive. It was a forty mile ride from Huachuca and Contention, forty miles in four hours. Easily done in the city, but out here in the wilderness when an unseen rattlesnake den means the end of your horse. He rode swiftly, but carefully, all the while imagining where Castiel was, how afraid he must be. Dean had promised him he'd never have to be afraid again, he just prayed he'd get the chance keep that promise. At last they closed in on the city, Dean motioned to Sam who rode behind him and Sam slid his rifle from the scabbard on the side of his saddle.

They had planned out as much as they'd been able to, knowing the layout of the town helped, but they had no way of knowing where the execution would take place, or who'd be there to stop them. They had what they had and the rest they'd have to take on faith. Dean had never been much of a religious man, but as they thundered through the streets of Contention, he sent up a quick prayer to whomever might be listening. The streets were empty, but as they rode further into the town they heard voices shouting angrily, they followed them. A moment later they came upon the town square where there stood a newly erected gallows. A man stood upon the wooden platform, his wrists bound behind his back and a black hood over his head, they were fitting a noose around his neck.

Dean pulled his gun out and began firing it into the air, spectators turned in alarm, diving out of the way as he rode through. The clock struck twelve and somewhere a lever was pulled. Castiel dropped a moment before Dean reached him, but there was a resounding gunshot and the rope was split. Dean reached him as he fell and pulled Castiel onto his horse, draping him over the front of the horse. He turned and gave his horse an almighty kick and he and his brother rode swiftly for the edge of town. People had just begun to realize what had happened in the confusion and were drawing their own guns. Bullets flew past them as they rode, one grazing Dean's shoulder. They passed the city limits a minute later, but didn't slow down. The town was probably rounding up a posse at that moment and they needed to find a place to lay low for a while.

They rode for the mountains that bordered the San Pedro River, hoping no one would think to follow them there. Once ensconced in the forest that clad the range of mountains, they slowed. Riding between the trees, looking for a place to hide Dean laid a hand on Castiel's back, keeping him in place and trying to give comfort as well. He felt Castiel tense under his touch and looked desperately around them for anything that could give them shelter. With an onrush of relief Dean spotted the mouth of what appeared to a small mountainous cave. He whistled to catch Sam's attention and pointed to it. A moment later they were dismounting. Dean gently lifted Castiel down from the horse and led him into the cave while Sam found a place to tie their horses up. Dean pulled his knife out of his belt and cut the ropes around Castiel's wrists and he was reaching for the hood when Castiel spoke.

"I know why you've done this." He said, voice shaking. "It won't change anything Lucifer."

Dean removed the hood from Castiel's head. "Guess again." He said.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, a look of utter disbelief on his face. "How did- you did this? You saved me?"

"I had some help." Dean said as Sam joined them in the cave. He gestured toward his brother. "This is my brother, Sam."

"Howdy Castiel." Sam said. "I heard a lot about ya."

"I've heard a lot about you as well. It's wonderful to meet you Sam." Castiel said. "Thank you."

"Weren't no trouble." Sam said with a smile. "Anyway I figger ya'll got a lot ta talk about, I'm gonna git some firewood, it'll be cold here tanight. See ya'll in a while."

And with that Sam was gone again. Castiel continued to look at Dean as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"I was workin' a case in Huachuca City, heard from one o' the deputies." Replied Dean. "Sorry I was late, we didn't have much warnin'."

"Dean, I don't know what to say."

"Ya don't have ta say anythin'."

"You came back for me. You didn't have to, after what I did…" Castiel looked away.

Dean took a step toward him and lifted his chin up, so he could look into those unfathomably blue eyes. "I had ta come back, I couldn't let you die Cas." Dean said. "I jus couldn't."

"Dean I'm sorry, about everything. I should have told you the truth sooner, I was just afraid."

"O' what?"

"That you'd hate me, for what I was."

"Cas, I was angrier at ya than I think I ever been at anyone, but I could never hate you, ever." Dean said earnestly. "I know ya didn't have a choice, runnin' wit that gang, an I know why ya left. An what I did, the things I said, I didn't mean it, I jus…"

"You were so angry before, I thought…"

"I'm sorry fer that, Cas." Dean said. "I jus, I love you so much an I thought it was all a lie an I couldn't bear it."

"I did lie to you, Dean. I shouldn't have, but I did." Castiel said, resting his palm over Dean's heart. "But the way I feel about you, I-I can't even describe it. I love you so much I thought I'd die when you left.

"I love you more'n anythin' Cas, an I promise you won't ever have ta fel like that again." Dean said.

Castiel leaned and kissed him and for the first time in a month the weight lifted from Dean's heart and he felt that everything was going to be alright. They parted a moment later and Dean a second to stroke his thumb over Castiel's cheekbone before speaking.

"How'd they find out anyway?" he asked. "Bout us?"

"Mr. Niedermeyer found some letters you'd written me. I hid them in my room, I don't know how he found them."

"I thought we agreed to burn em all once we'd read am?"

"I know." Castiel admitted. "I hadn't gotten around to destroying them and then you left and they were the only thing I had left of you, so I kept them. It was dangerous and stupid, I know."

"S'all right Cas." Dean said pulling him into a crushing hug. "Ever'thin's gonna be alright."

Sam reentered the cave, arms full of firewood. He caught sight of Dean and Castiel and stopped in his tracks. "Uh, I got some wood." He said sheepishly.

"We better git his fire started, the sun'll be goin' down purty soon." Dean said, stepping away from Castiel and taking some of the wood from Sam.

He and his brother set about building the pit and arranging the wood inside. Within an hour they had a fire burning merrily in the center of the darkening cave, throwing shadows on the walls. Sam stood, brushing the dirt from his hands.

"We's gonna need ta have somebody keepin' watch." He said. "Case somebody finds us, we kin do it in shifts."

"I'll take first watch then." Dean said. "You two try'n git some sleep. Cas kin use my bedroll."

Sam nodded and began unrolling the bedrolls on the caves dirt floor. While Sam busied himself with getting ready for bed, Dean approached Castiel. He kissed his gently on the cheek.

"Night Cas." He said.

"Goodnight Dean." Replied Castiel with a smile.

"G'night Sammy." Dean said a little louder and his brother looked up at him.

"Night Dean." Sam said. "Wake me in two hours an I'll come an relieve ya."

"Will do." Replied Dean heading for the caves entrance.

He sat down a few feet from the mouth of the cave, settling back against a tree for support. The sun was setting swiftly now and he knew it'd be getting cold soon. He pulled his coat closer around himself as in preparation. He leaned his head back against the tree and looked out into the darkening forest, hoping boredom and a chill was all he'd experienced that night.

Dean had been on watch for a little less than an hour when he heard a twig snap behind him. He whirled around moving to draw his gun when he saw Castiel, quietly stepping through the brush toward him.

"Damn Cas." He said with relief. "Ya scairt the tar outta me. Thought you was one o' them bastards sneakin' up on me."

"Sorry." Castiel whispered, taking a seat beside him. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Ya should be restin'" Dean said. "Ya had a helluva day."

"I couldn't sleep."

Dean saw a shiver run though him and noted that he wore only his shirt and vest. He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Castiel.

"Thank you." Said Castiel gratefully, pulling it on.

"I almost forgot." Said Dean suddenly. "I got somethin' fer ya."

Dean reached into his shirt and pulled out the crucifix he'd been wearing for the last month. He unclasped it and handed it to Castiel. "This is yers." He said.

Castiel took it, looking at it with distaste. "I don't even know why I kept it." He said. "I guess I was afraid I'd forget. It was horrible, but I don't want to forget."

"They's a lot o' things like that." Replied Dean. There was a moment of silence. "Who are they?"

Castiel hesitated.

"If ya don't wanna talk about it." Dean began.

"No it's alright." Replied Castiel. "I think I need to talk about it, I just never had anyone I could tell."

There was silence while Castiel gathered the courage to speak.

"They're my family." Castiel began bitterly. "Lucifer is my oldest brother, he's the leader. He took over the family when our father left, he's the reason for the killing and the crime."

"Why do they follow him?"

"Because it's all they know. Ours is not your typical family dynamic, we were very rarely allowed to interact with anyone outside the family and if we did, we were not allowed to use our real names, only members of our family were allowed to know them. When each of us turned sixteen we were given a crucifix and swore always to obey our father and the lord's teachings. My father was a very religious man, he named us all after angels, and Lucifer has certainly lived up to his namesake. It's strange to describe it now, but it's almost like we believed he was God and we his angels." Castiel paused a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"My father ruled his children with strict discipline, conditioned them to respond only to a firm hand. They need guidance, otherwise they'll be lost. Things were fine until he left, then everything fell into chaos. Lucifer took control and they listened to him, we all did. And when he told us what we were doing was for the greater good, we believed him. But it got worse he and Michael, the oldest, they were cruel and dangerous. Breaking the law was one thing, but killing innocent people? I couldn't do that, couldn't be involved anymore."

"So you left?"

"Yes." Castiel said. "It took a long time before I worked up enough courage. In my family you don't just leave, the only way out is in a box. I knew if Lucifer ever found me, he'd kill me, but it was worth the risk. One of my brothers, Gabriel helped me. He wasn't like the rest of them, he despised the killing as much as I did. We planned to escape together, but something went wrong. We were found out, he stayed behind to buy me time so that I could get away. I don't even know what happened to him, if he's still alive. I bounced around a lot before I ended up in Contention. I don't know what made me stay there, but I'm glad I did."

"So am I." Dean said, taking Castiel's hand. "Why'd yer Pa leave anyway?"

"I don't know, none of us did. One day he was just gone and we never saw him, or heard from him again. I was angry at him for a long time for leaving, for letting this happen to us."

"And now?"

"Now I guess it doesn't matter anymore, maybe I've forgiven him. I don't know." Castiel said. "I just want to put it all behind me."

"And we will." Dean said, reaching out to take Castiel's hand. "We'll git far away from here, start a new life. We'll put it all behind us Cas, I promise."

"Thank you Dean." Castiel said. "For everything, what you did today-"

"I had to." Dean cut in. "I couldn't let anything happen to you. I had to make it right."

"Make what right?"

"Nothin', I-It's nothin'."

"Something happened?" Castiel asked hesitantly.

"A long time ago." Admitted Dean. "It's ancient history."

"If you don't want to talk about it."

Dean paused a moment before he spoke again. "I was fifteen." He began. "We was in Nebraska, workin' a case, well my Pa was. We'd jus hang aroun' till he was finished, we was too young ta help much. Anyway we was there a while, a few weeks an-an I met somebody."

"A boy?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "His name was Danny, an we fell in love. An it was risky and it was stupid, but we didn't care. His folks owned a farm jus outside o' town, he'd work there by day an I'd meet im' in the stables at night. We'd jus talk all night an I never thought I could feel that way. Never thought I was good enough for that kind o' happiness, bein' what I am. An I was happy, happier than I ever been, but it all went wrong. They found out."

"Who did?"

"People in the town, I'm not sure who." Dean said. He took a shuddering breath and looked at Castiel. He held his hand tighter and continued. "They got Danny fore I knew what was happenin'. I followed them, ran till I thought my heart would explode an I found em. I didn't know what I was doin', I jus knew I had ta save im', but I weren't alone. My Pas was there, pulled me away so nobody would see me. I tried to fight im' ta git free, but he was a tough bastard. They strung im' up an he was cryin' an callin' fer help an I couldn't do a damn thing about it."

"Oh Dean." Castiel whispered, leaning in to wrap his arms around him. "I'm so sorry."

"Do ya see?" Dean asked, voice hoarse with unshed tears. "I couldn't let it happen again, I couldn't lose you. Not when I had the power ta save you, Id've done anythin' Cas, anythin' ta save you. I thought I had to leave before, I thought it could never work, but I didn't realize."

"Realize what?" asked Castiel.

"How much I loved you." Replied Dean, looking into Castiel's eyes. "How much I needed you. How I cain't live without you. Whatever happens now, whether we live, or die, we do it together."

"I like the sound of that." Castiel said with a smile.

"Good." Dean said, pulling Castiel in for a lingering kiss.

They parted a moment later. "God I missed this." Dean murmured against Castiel's lips.

"You did?" asked Castiel playfully. He pressed kisses to underside of Dean's jaw.

"Did you miss this?" he asked, kissing his way down Dean's neck, pulling his shirt collar aside as he did.

Dean let out a little groan. "Ya know, I jus might have." He said a little breathlessly.

Castiel shrugged off Dean's coat and climbed into his lap, straddling him. "Tell me," he said, running his tongue along the shell of Dean's ear. "What else have you missed?"

Dean pulled Castiel in for a bruising kiss, burying his hands in that soft brown hair, needing to get closer. Castiel pressed himself as close to Dean as he could, parting his lips to let Dean inside. Dean's hands slipped from Castiel's hair, sliding down his back and coming to rest on his hips. They parted, Castiel taking Dean's lower lip between his teeth and nibbling gently. Dean gripped Castiel's hips and thrust, bringing their half-hard cocks into contact through their clothes. Castiel gasped deliciously and Dean kissed him again, drinking down the sounds of his pleasure.

Castiel planted his hands on Dean's shoulders for leverage and ground his hips into Dean's. Dean moaned and thrust upward, seeking more friction. They moved together, Castiel writhing wantonly in Dean's lap, both of them needing each other so desperately. Castiel's rhythm faltered with impending release and Dean gripped his hips firmly, ceasing his movements. Castiel let out a little whine of protest, but Dean silenced him with a heated kiss. He pulled back, placing open mouthed kisses to Castiel's neck.

"Need to feel you." He whispered, fumbling at the closings of Castiel's trousers.

Castiel reached out to do the same, they fumbled a moment in the dark before their aching cocks sprung free. Dean took both their cocks in his hand, stroking them slowly while he sucked a bruise into Castiel's throat.

"Oh Dean." Castiel moaned. E reached between them, entwining his fingers with Dean's.

Their hands moved together over aching flesh, dripping with precum. The night seems to have gone silent, no other sound in the air, but the slide of skin on skin, harsh breaths, indistinct murmurings. Dean felt a shudder run through Castiel and looked up to see those perfect lips parted with wordless pleasure, those eyes gazing at him with hunger. He moaned and quickened his pace. He'd already been so close and now, feeling Castiel throb and burn under his touch, the feel of sweat-slicked skin sliding against his own, the heat and baseness of it. It was too much.

"God Cas." He gritted out, stroking their cocks still faster. "I'm gonna-"

He didn't finish, he didn't need to.

"Me too." Castiel gasped out. "Come with me, Dean. Wanna feel you."

Their hands moved in sync, stripping their cocks furiously and then they were coming, spilling their seed between them, covering their fingers and staining their clothes. Dean buried his face in Castiel's neck, both of them shaking with the power of their release. Dean stroked them through the aftershocks, murmuring into Castiel's skin with reverence.

"I love you." He said breathlessly, leaning back to look Castiel in the eye. "God, I love you."

"I love you too." Whispered Castiel. "More than anything in the world."

Castiel collapsed against him, spent and Dean wrapped his arms around him. They sat that way for a long while and the night seemed to come back to life around them. The sound of chirping insects returned, the sound of wind through the trees. As the chill in the air deepened Dean reached down and tucked them back into their trousers. He used a handkerchief to wipe as much of the cum away as he could from their clothes. Castiel climbed from his lap and curled up beside him. Dean draped his coat over Castiel's shoulders and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. That's how Sam found them a little while later, when he came to relieve Dean of his watch. He turned back slowly, not wishing to disturb them.


	7. Roads Out of Hell

**A/N:** I'm soo sorry this is so late. I just started a new job and the hours are crazy, but here it is. Hope you all like it.

* * *

Chapter Seven:

Roads out of Hell

"All great beginnings start in the dark, when the moon greets you to a new day at midnight."

― Shannon L. Alder

* * *

Dean awoke at dawn, cold and aching. The uneven stone floor had been no dream to sleep on and his back made its' protest known. Dean felt Castiel stir in his arms and he smiled, his cares forgotten. Castiel lifted his head from Dean's chest and looked up at him sleepily.

"What time is it?" he asked muzzily.

"Suns jus come up, prolly round six." Replied Dean.

"Oh." Said Castiel a little more clearly. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair worriedly. "What are we going to do now?"

Dean sat up beside him with a sigh. "I don't rightly know. I mean we gotta git as far from here as we can, and then… Well we'll figger somethin' out." Dean said.

"Where will we go?" Castiel asked. "I mean they know about us, which means they've probably figured out who it was that saved me. What will happen to you now, can you still work?"

Dean laid a hand on Castiel's cheek with a chuckle. "Easy Cas." He said quietly. "Quit worryin' so much, you'll make yerself crazy."

"I know it's just, I made a mess of everything and now…"

"You ain't made a mess o' nothin'." Dean told him. "What happened back there was a bed we both made by not bein' more careful. I jus thank the Lord we ain't had ta lay in it."

Castiel nodded. At that moment Sam entered the cave. "Mornin' fellas." He said.

"Mornin' Sammy." Dean said getting to his feet.

"We should git goin' soon." Sam said as he began gathering his things together. "We gotta git back ta Huachuca city and git our horses fore word spreads o' the stunt we pulled."

"Yessir." Dean said. "Can't wait ta git my baby back."

Castiel cleared his throat loudly and Dean looked over to find him sporting a disapproving look. "My other baby." Dean amended. "O'course."

"Alright lovebirds, let's git goin'" said Sam, but the smile on his face betrayed him.

They got the rest of their things packed up, Sam taking the bulk of their gear so that Castiel could ride behind Dean. They set out for Huachuca city within the hour. As they rode Dean found his mind drawn to the future, which had never been so uncertain. But riding beneath a fair sun, with Castiel's arms around him, he could find little place in his heart for worry. For the first time in his life, Dean Winchester met the future with a smile on his face and hope in his heart.

They entered the city a few hours later, they parted ways as Sam left to retrieve their horses and Dean to rent them a room at the hotel. They would need some rest before they set out again. Once the room had been paid for, Dean and Castiel made their way upstairs to wait for Sam. Dean collapsed onto the bed immediately and kicked his boots off with a sigh of relief. Castiel joined him a moment later.

"I been thinkin'," Dean said after a moment. "Bout what we're gonna do."

"Yeah?"

"Well my Pa had this friend, up in South Dakota, Bobby, they was real close once. He was kinda like an uncle to us. He owns a ranch up there, I was thinkin' maybe we'd go up there, stay with im' fer a while an maybe later we could start a farm of our own. I mean Bobby could sell us some cattle ta start us off an, an well I always thought if I ever quit bounty huntin', this'd be what I'd do." Dean finished speaking in a rush, waiting nervously. Castiel didn't speak for a moment and Dean's heart fell. "I mean on'y if ya wanna do it, Cas."

"So, it'd be just the two of us on this farm?" Castiel asked.

"Fer the most part." Replied Dean. "I mean I gotta talk ta Sammy, but that's prob'ly how it'll be."

"I think that sounds nice." Castiel said. "I mean I'd have a lot to learn, but it'd be safer than being in a city."

"Yeah." Dean said excitedly. "There'd be no one aroun ta mess with us, jus you an me."

"Just you and me." Castiel repeated. "I like the sound of that."

"I mean yer alright with this?" Dean asked skeptically. "I know you come from a good family, from money I mean. It'd be hard work, but we could make somethin', a life fer ourselves. Not like I planned, or like you deserve, but it could be ours. An no one could ever take it from us."

"That's all I want, Dean." Said Castiel earnestly. "I don't care about money, or things. I just want to be with you."

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yes of course." Said Castiel. "I love you."

"I love you too." Replied Dean. He was leaning I for a kiss when the door opened and Sam walked in.

"Well, got our horses back." He said. "I think Baby's been missin' ya. She seems kinda glum."

"Prob'ly thought I was never comin' back." Dean said.

"Oh, I got a horse fer you too Cas." Sam added. "Figgered ya need one o' yer own. She's a pretty little thing, an a sweetheart too."

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel said, surprised. "That's wonderful."

"Don't mention it." Replied Sam affably. "She's right out front, the painted mare. Why'nt ya go git acquainted with er' I got somethin' I'd like ta discuss with my brother."

"Of course." Castiel said getting to his feet. He placed a quick kiss to Dean's cheek and left the room.

"What's on yer mind, Sammy?" Dean asked warily.

"Well, I been thinkin'." Sam began. "Bout what we're gonna do now."

"I been doin' the same." Admitted Dean.

"Well I figger you an Cas got plans o' yer own that don't involve the family business ya know." Sam continued. "An I was thinkin', well…"

"What is it?"

"Remember that girl I knew, back in California?" Sam asked.

Dean searched his memory for a moment before it came to him. "Yeah, Jessica right? You was real sweet on er' if I remember right."

"Yeah, well I sorta made a promise to er', back then."

"Oh?

"Yeah, if I ever quit bounty huntin' that, well that I'd go back." Sam said. "I never thought I'd git the chance, but…"

"Ya love er'?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," said Sam. "I do. I never stopped lovin' er', and seein' you an Cas. Well, it reminds me how much I miss er'."

"I'll be damned." Dean said proudly. "My kid brother's all growed up."

Dean got up from the bed and pulled Sam into fierce hug. Dean let him go a moment later.

"Well whatcha think?" Sam asked. "I mean, you ain't mad?"

"Mad?" Dean asked incredulously. "How could I be mad? If ya love this girl, ya should be with er'. I jus don't know why ya didn't tell me sooner."

"Well ya know what Pa said bout distractions."

"Yeah, I know." Replied Dean. "But this here is a good thing. What'll ya do fer work over there?"

"Well, me an her talked bout me goin' ta school. I always thought if I could do somethin' else, I'd be a lawyer."

"A lawyer?" asked Dean. "Well it sounds like ya got ever'thin' figgered out."

"Yeah, well like I said I been thinkin'." Said Sam. "I don't want ya ta feel like I'm runnin' out on ya."

"Course not." Dean said. "Yer my brother, an I want ya ta be happy. Sides, you'll be a better lawyer than a farmer."

Sam laughed. "You still set on startin' that farm?" he asked.

"Damn right." Dean said. "An I'll do it. Even if I don't got ya there doin' all the hard work."

"Yeah, looks like ya gotta do it yerself now."

"Looks like it."

"Where ya plannin' on startin' this farm anyway?" Sam asked.

"I was thinkin' South Dakota." Replied Dean. "Figgered Bobby could help me git started."

"Course he will." Said Sam.

Silence fell between them in which they felt the magnitude of their decision. Like the tectonic plates of their lives were shifting beneath them, drawing them away from one another. Dean didn't know how to feel, he'd been looking after Sam for as long as he could remember and he'd expected that he always would. When he thought of the future, saw that farm in his mind's eye, Sam was always there. He wondered to himself if it was worth it, if he was doing the right thing, if what he was giving up was worth what he was losing. And then Castiel stepped into the room, and all his doubt flew from him. Too much had happened now, too much had changed, and Dean knew that no matter what happened now, it was worth it, and it always would be.

The night passed too quickly for comfort and not much was said. Dean would glance over at the bed beside him, the one Sam lay in, the one that had always been Sam's in the hundreds of hotels over the years. He imagined it empty and found himself longing for his father. John Winchester, who'd kept his family together for years, through troubles unnumbered. John Winchester, who'd handed the reigns to his eldest son when he died, what would he think of Dean now? Ashamed probably, Dean thought to himself. He told himself for the umpteenth time that it was worth it and pushed the thoughts of his father from his mind.

The three men turned in a little while later, though sleep did not find them. Each of them lay awake, burdened with his own troubles and thoughts of the future. Dean pulled Castiel closer to him in the bed they shared and took comfort. Dawn found them, unrested and weary. They packed their things in silence, their decisions weighing heavily upon them. When the time finally came, when all of the gear had been separated and packed onto the three horses, Dean's stoicism failed him. He looked at his brother, feeling a well of pain open up inside him. He understood why they had to part, why it was better this way, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

"So," Sam began hesitantly. "I guess this is it."

"Guess so." Replied Dean stiffly. Emotional outbursts were a rare occurrence in their family.

"How long ya think the journey'll be ta Bobby's?"

"Bout a month."

"Well I should be in California in a coupla weeks. I'll write as soon as I git there, Bobby'll have the letter there fer ya when ya git there."

"That is if ya ain't too busy with yer lady ta write." Dean said with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Course I won't be."

Dean knew this would be the last time he spoke to his brother for a while and he knew he should say something grand and poignant, but the words escaped him. He settled for sincerity, rather than grandiosity.

"Ya take care o' yerself out there." He said. "Be careful on the road, remember what Pa taught us."

Sam laughed. "I know Dean." He said. "I'll be careful, I promise. Ya don't gotta worry bout me."

"I always worry bout ya, Sammy." Replied Dean. "It's my job."

Sam, still smiling turned to Castiel and held out his hand. "Look after im, will ya?" he said. "Cause Lord knows someone's got to."

"I will." Castiel promised, taking Sam's hand in a firm handshake. "And thank you, Sam for everything you've done for me."

"I was happy ta help. I'm jus glad somebody's finally made an honest woman o' my big brother." Said Sam grinning. Castiel stifled a laugh as Dean threw Sam a dirty look.

"Alright, alright." Dean cut in. "Enough o' that."

Dean stepped toward his brother and pulled him into a crushing hug. They parted several moments later. When Sam looked at him again he had that doe-eyed look, the one that he used to get them out of trouble. Only this time it wasn't faked and the tears in his eyes were real. Dean felt his own eyes stinging and clapped Sam heartily on the shoulder, trying to return a shred of masculinity to the moment.

"I'll see ya round then." He said, voice less firm than he'd intended.

"Yeah." Sam said with a soft smile. "Good luck you two."

"And you." Replied Castiel.

"Goodbye Dean."

"Bye Sam."

Sam turned without another word and mounted his horse. He must have known he'd have to be the first to leave, because Dean sure as hell wouldn't be. He watched his brother move swiftly down the street until he was out of sight. Dean had always had a hard time with goodbyes, ever since their father died. He'd stopped making friends, stopped caring about people altogether, knowing he'd have to leave them eventually. He'd told himself that he already had everything he needed.

Then he met Castiel and everything changed and now he was losing a part of himself he'd never imagined could be taken away. It was for the best, he knew that. He knew he couldn't spend the rest of his life at his brother's side, but that didn't mean he was ready to let go, just yet. He was still staring at the spot where Sam had disappeared when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Castiel, looking at him with those unfathomable eyes, Dean's heart lightened at the sight.

"He'll be alright." Castiel said. "You both will be."

Dean smiled and was surprised to find that he didn't have to force it. "I know." He said. "Let's git goin'."

Castiel returned his smile and they mounted their horses and side by side, they rode from the town, away from the past and toward something altogether more daunting, the future. Bring whatever it may, they would face it together.

* * *

It was the end of the sixth day of their journey, they had been trying to conserve what little money they had and had been camping out every night. Dean could sense Castiel's weariness, he wasn't accustomed to life in the saddle after his time spent as a civilian. They'd traveled over four hundred miles and had crossed into New Mexico some time ago. Dean glanced over at Castiel who looked as though he might drop at any moment. Dean spurred his horse on faster, he wanted to go a little further before they stopped that night. So, wearied and covered in dust, they traveled on. An hour or so later, they came upon a town, a welcomed sight. They slowed as they neared the town's outer limits, Cuchillo it was called. Dean leaned over in his saddle toward Castiel.

"What do ya say we git a room tanight?" he asked. "Git a good night's sleep for once."

"That sounds wonderful." Castiel remarked. "I never thought I'd miss that lumpy old mattress."

Dean chuckled and led them into the town. They parted ways in the center of town, and Dean saw to their horses while Castiel made his way to the local hotel. Dean left to meet him there when he was sure that Baby would be properly looked after. He gave Baby a goodnight pat and she whinnied in response. He left the stables and walked out into the street. It didn't take him long to find the hotel, it really was a small town. He found a man behind the counter, who looked older than anyone he'd ever met. The man's face was so wrinkled Dean couldn't make out any expression. His eyes were closed and he wondered if the man had fallen asleep or had died of old age. The man stirred when Dean approached the counter.

"What can I do you fer?" he asked congenially.

"Uh, feller came in a little while ago, rented a room from ya." Dean began.

"Of course, you must be his brother." The man said. "He said you'd be along shortly. I put him in room number 12, upstairs and to the left."

"Uh right, well thank ya." Dean said and headed for the stairs.

He found his room and knocked gently.

"Come in."

He entered the room and found it to be more than adequate. Two beds sat on either side of the room, a nightstand which held a burning lamp sat beside one bed and a desk sat in the corner with an unlighted lamp on it. There was no wash basin, but altogether it wasn't too bad. Castiel looked at him surprised from his place on the bed closest to the door.

"Oh it's you." He said with a smile. "Did you get the horses settled down?"

"Yessum." Replied Dean. "Nice touch with the room by the way. Brothers?"

Castiel smiled shyly. "Well I figured no one ever looked at you and Sam twice and I'd rather not have a repeat of Contention."

"Hell no." said Dean. "So I guess this means we gotta act like brothers too?"

"In public, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I jus figgered you might be a little wound up from the road, might need ta relax a little." Dean said taking a step toward Castiel, a playful grin on his face.

"It has been a rather trying week." Castiel replied, playing along. "I am awfully tired though."

"Really?" Dean asked. "That's a shame." He removed his hat and jacket and then moved on to his vest while Castiel watched. He had his shirt unbuttoned and was shrugging it off when Castiel spoke again.

"On second thought." He said, eyeing Dean hungrily. "I think I've found my second wind."

"Glad ta hear it." Replied Dean closing the distance between them.

He took Castiel's chin in his hand, drawing him in for a kiss. Dean kissed him breathless and pulled back to nibble on his lower lip. He gently laid Castiel on the bed and slowly began removing his clothes. First his vest, then his shirt, Dean kissed his way down Castiel's chest, taking his time to run his tongue over each pert nipple. When Dean began tugging at the buttons of his trousers, Castiel let out a desperate little whine. Dean grinned up at him and tugged his trousers down and off. He looked down at Castiel, laid out before him like a gift, cock already hard and visible through the long underwear he wore. His lips were wet and pink where he'd bitten them and that half-lidded gaze, full of desire, sent a thrill down Dean's spine.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Dean murmured, more to himself than anything.

"Dean." Castiel whispered. "Please."

"Shh." Said Dean, placing a finger over Castiel's lips. "I've got you."

"I want you Dean." Castiel begged. "Please take me, I need to feel you."

Dean leaned down, looking him in the eye. "You sure?" he asked. "I mean have you ever done that before?"

"No, I want you to be the first. The first and only." Castiel said firmly. "Please Dean."

Dean couldn't deny him when he looked at him like that, when he begged so prettily. He left the bed and quickly made his way to the corner of the room to where the spare lamp sat on the desk. He removed the fuel deposit from the lamp and returned to the bed, Castiel had removed his underwear and lay on the bed, taut and glistening with sweat. If Dean had had more schooling he'd compare him to the Greek gods of old, but as it was his breath caught in his throat. He set the oil down on the bed and leaned down for a searing kiss. He settled himself between Castiel's thighs and reached for the oil. He coated two fingers with it and placed a tender kiss to the inside of Castiel's thigh.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"God yes."

Dean ran his index finger over Castiel's entrance, watching as the tight ring of muscle shuddered under his touch. He slipped the tip of his finger inside and Castiel gasped. Dean slowly pushed his finger inside, feeling Castiel's muscles cling tightly to him. He thrust his finger in and out a few times, watching the myriad of expressions play out on Castiel's face. Dean added a second finger and slowly thrust them both inside, gently stretching him. Castiel let out a soft moan and wriggled his hips in encouragement. Dean spread his fingers as he thrust them inside, scissoring them and drawing pleasured little gasps from Castiel's throat.

"More." Castiel whispered heatedly.

Dean added a third finger and Castiel let out a throaty moan at the stretch and burn of it. Dean twisted his wrist on every thrust until Castiel writhed beneath him. Dean's cock was rock hard in his trousers, aching and soaking his underwear with precum. He reached down and pressed the heel pf his palm against the sizeable bulge in his trousers, desperate for the slightest bit of friction. He worked Castiel open, watching his fingers disappear into that hungry orifice. It was mesmerizing. Castiel looked down at him, blue eyes wide and filled with a desperation, a vulnerability that Dean had never seen there before.

"Please Dean." Castiel begged raggedly. "Need to, wanna feel you move inside me."

And Dean, ever a gentleman, obliged him. He slipped his fingers from Castiel's hole and stood up. He quickly stripped himself of his trousers and underwear, hissing at the sting of cool air on his overheated flesh. He climbed back onto the bed, reaching for the oil once more. He poured a measure into his palm and spread it over his erection. Castiel's eyes never left him, staring at him hungrily as Dean slicked his cock. It was the most erotic things he'd ever experienced. He moved to lay over Castiel, leaning down for a heated kiss. He lined his cock up with Castiel's hole, distracting him with kisses as he gently pushed inside. Castiel let out a small pained sound and Dean stopped moving.

"Does it hurt?" Dean asked, concerned. "Do you want me ta stop?"

"No, God no," Castiel ground out. "Don't you dare stop."

Dean resumed his movements, slowly pushing inside Castiel until he bottomed out. He paused there for a few moments, letting Castiel get used to the size of him. He kissed a line up Castiel's throat, taking his lips a moment later in a feverish kiss, full of aching desperation. He pulled back moving to run his tongue along the shell of Castiel's ear, eliciting a soft moan from him.

"Are you ready?" Dean whispered in his ear.

"Yes."

Dean inched out slowly, until only the head of his cock remained inside Castiel, then he thrust back inside. He set a languorous rhythm, fucking Castiel deeply and thoroughly. Dean's body was covered in sweat, shaking with latent desire. Being inside Castiel, the feel of him was unlike anything Dean had ever felt. It was like the sweet kiss of rain on parched desert planes, like coming home after being away for so long, it was utterly exquisite. Dean quickened his thrusts and Castiel arched his back moaning wantonly.

Dean took Castiel's hand where it lie on the bed, intertwining their fingers together. He angled his hips so his cock went deeper, searching for that spot he knew would send him over the edge. When Castiel let out a sharp cry, Dean knew he had found it. He fucked Castiel harder, brushing his cock over that spot again and again, till Castiel shuddered and whimpered beneath him. He reached between them and took Castiel's cock in his hand stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts.

"Oh Dean." Castiel moaned. "Feels so good."

"Yeah?" asked Dean through ragged breaths. "You like it?"

"Yes. Oh God yes."

Dean snapped his hips forward, the slap of skin on skin loud in their ears. He jerked Castiel's cock faster, flicking his wrist on every upstroke. Castiel lay shaking beneath him, sweat covered skin glistening in the lamplight, eyelids fluttering with pleasure. Dean leaned forward and licked a long stripe up Castiel's throat, wanting to taste him.

"You taste good." He murmured.

Dean could feel Castiel's cock pulse in his hand, could feel how close he was. He tightened his grip, stripping Castiel's cock faster. He could feel his own orgasm building, the tightening in his belly. Dean fucked Castiel into the cheap hotel mattress beneath them as pleasure sparked along his spine. He slammed his hips into Castiel's once more and came, filling him with hot pulses of cum. Castiel followed a second behind him, shooting over Dean's fist and painting his chest with his release. Dean slipped out of Castiel's slackened hole and collapsed beside him on the bed. They lay breathing heavily, sweat cooling on their skin for a long while. Dean was the first to break the silence.

"I love you Cas." He said looking over at him. "More than anything in the world."

Castiel snuggled up to Dean, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. "I love you more." He said with a smile.

Dean chuckled and wrapped his arms around him. Dean placed a kiss to the top of Castiel's head, wondering what he had done to deserve something as wonderful as this. He draped a sheet over their bodies and pulled Castiel a little bit closer, sending a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who might be listening. Castiel fell asleep a few minutes later, snoring gently in Dean's arms. Lulled by the sound Dean drifted off a little while later. They slept peacefully, content in each other's arms.


	8. Sunlight in my Heart

Chapter Eight:

Sunlight in my Heart

"Lord, make me now as happy as the field. With flowers enriched..."

― Eileen A. Soper

* * *

One Month Later

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Dean awoke to the shrill crowing of a rooster, as he did every morning now. He looked over at Castiel, who could sleep through just about anything. Dean hated waking him, he looked so peaceful when he slept, but there was work needed doing. He reached over and gently shook him by the shoulder.

"Cas." He said quietly.

Castiel stirred sleepily, turning over with a mighty yawn.

"Mornin' sweetheart."

"Morning." Replied Castiel with a soft smile. "You sure we have to get up now?"

"Fraid so." Dean said. "We gotta git on over ta Bobby's, git us some cattle. Cain't have a ranch wit no cattle."

"Good point."

Reluctantly the two men dragged themselves from the comfort of their bed and began dressing in the semidarkness of the room. Once dressed they headed downstairs to prepare for the journey to Singer's Ranch.

They had arrived in Sioux Falls just over two weeks ago. Bobby had been thrilled to see Dean again and had been happy to help get his new life started. They found a parcel of land a few miles away and Dean had used all the money he'd been saving the last ten years or so to buy it. It was an old bank foreclosure, ten acres of decent land, but the barn and farmhouse were in disrepair. They'd spent the last two weeks making everything habitable, for themselves as much as any animals.

The house was on the small side, two bedrooms upstairs, kitchen and living room downstairs and an outhouse out back. Though the house was old, the damage wasn't too extensive. The mold and rotted wood could be taken care of easily enough and it was certainly going to need a new coat of paint. As would the barn, the grey faded structure was a dreary sight indeed, but they knew that they could get the place looking good as new again, with enough time and money.

Dean stood at the stove, putting water on to boil for coffee when Castiel entered the room. He set out a loaf of bread and some butter for breakfast. Whistling as he worked Dean looked over and found Castiel staring at him, an amused expression on his face.

"What?" Dean asked a little self-consciously.

"I love you like this." Replied Castiel. "In the morning, you're so cheerful. It's sweet."

"Well, I got a lot ta be cheerful about." Said Dean as the kettle began whistling shrilly.

He fixed two steaming mugs of coffee and brought them to the table. Castiel looked at his dispassionately.

"What I wouldn't give for some cream." He said.

"Jus think," replied Dean. "Pretty soon you'll have all the milk and cream ya could want, fresh too."

"Not soon enough." Castiel said, grimacing at the bitter coffee.

They finished their breakfast and Dean headed out to saddle the horses, while Castiel cleaned up. Ten minutes later, they were on the road headed east toward Bobby's ranch. It was only a few miles and they made the trip in about a half hour. Bobby was out in the fields, already hard at work when they arrived. They dismounted and hitched their horses out front.

"Hey old timer." Dean called out to him.

Bobby looked up, a disgruntled look on his face. He headed over to them, wiping dirt from his hands as he walked.

"Ya better watch yer tone, kid." He said. "Ever heard o' respectin' yer elders?"

"Sure old man." Replied Dean with a grin.

"Heya Castiel." Bobby said.

"Good morning."

"So, ya here ta buy some cattle?"

"Yessir." Replied Dean.

"Hell, I never figgered you fer a farmer." Bobby said shaking his head in disbelief. "Yer Pa'd turn over in his grave."

"You was a bounty hunter too, you done the same thing." Dean countered.

"True, but I weren't raised in it."

"Well, I'm tired o' huntin' folks."

"I know the feelin'." Bobby said. "Sides, I think ye'll make a good farmer, both o' ya."

"Thank you." Castiel said. "We really appreciate all you've done. We couldn't have done it without you."

"Never had kids o' my own." Bobby said. "Sorta adopted John's boys after he passed. Nothin' I wouldn't do fer em'."

"Aww, yer breakin' my heart over here." Dean said, though he was smiling.

"He acts tough, but he's really a big old sweetheart." Said Castel warmly.

"Is he now?" asked Bobby gleefully.

"C'mon now," Dean said. "I got a reputation ta maintain round here."

"Sorry dear," replied Castiel. "No more stories, I promise."

"While he's around." Bobby amended.

"I thought we was here fer business, not tellin' tales like a coupla old women."

"Alright then, let's git down ta business then." Bobby said. "There'll be plenty o' time fer tales later." He added throwing Castiel a knowing look.

They had agreed on 30 head of cattle, plenty to get them started and Bobby had a few young chickens that he said he'd throw in free of charge. They went through Bobby's herds, picking the animals they'd be taking with them. Once they'd made their choices, the animals were rounded up and separated from the rest. It'd be a hassle herding them all the way home, but Dean knew they could do it. When the business was complete and a price had been negotiated, Bobby giving them a much appreciated discount, he invited them both to stay for lunch. The three of them trudged into Bobby's house, glad to be out of the hot sun.

"So, how's Sam?" asked Bobby once inside the kitchen.

"He's doin' good." Replied Dean. "Got another letter from im' the other day. He's got a little place, been seein' a girl."

"Really?"

"Yeah, says he's plannin' on goin' ta college."

"College?" asked Bobby surprised.

"Yeah, wants ta be a lawyer."

"How bout that?" asked Bobby. "A lawyer an a farmer, my boys is all growed up."

"I'm almost thirty." Dean said with a laugh.

"Bout time then." Replied Bobby, stirring something in a pot on the stove. "So, how you boys been anyway? Settlin' in alright?"

"Yeah, we're doin' great." Dean said, smiling at Castiel.

Dean wished he could tell Bobby the truth about just how good they were doing, but Dean would not risk the life they were trying to build here. It wasn't that he thought Bobby would betray them, he just figured the fewer people who knew about them the better. He suspected that Bobby knew the truth anyway, he knew Dean too well not to have some kind of idea. They took their lunch, beans and bread in relative silence. They finished up and began gathering their things together. Dean was eager to get back and get the animals settled. Bobby helped them direct the herd onto the road and Castiel got in position in front of them, while Dean took the back. Just as they were about to set out, Dean turned to Bobby and tipped his hat.

"Thank ya again." He said gratefully. "I owe ya one."

"Ya don't owe me nothin'." Bobby replied gruffly, but his smile betrayed him. "Jus keep em' in line an ye'll be right as rain."

"Will do." Dean said. "See ya round."

At Dean's signal Castiel spurred his horse into motion and the cavalcade set out. It took them twice as long to get home as it did to get to Bobby's but Dean was glad to see they still had a good bit of sunlight left when they did. They herded the steer into two of the three paddocks Dean had spent the last two weeks making. Dean was busy getting the animals settled while Castiel led the horses to the barn. Dean finished his work and wandered toward the barn, looking for Castiel. He entered the semi darkened room and looked around. He heard a whinny beside him, but nothing else.

"Cas?" he called out uncertainly.

"Up here." Came the reply.

Dean looked up to see Castiel sitting in the hay loft, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Whatcha doin' up there?"

"Oh nothing," Castiel replied airily. "Just thinking about the last time I was in a hayloft. Do you remember?"

"Damn right I remember." Replied Dean heartily. He made his way toward the ladder and a moment later he was climbing up beside Castiel.

"Glad you could join me."

Dean chuckled. "Me too." He said. "So what're we doin' up here anyway?"

"This." Castiel said before he brought their lips together in a soft kiss.

Dean smiled when Castiel pulled away, looking a little shy. "We could just go into the house." He said.

"I like it in here." Replied Castiel simply. "Besides it's an awful long walk to the house."

Castiel began tugging at Dean's clothes in the gloom of the barn, removing first his vest, then his shirt. He was working his trousers open when Dean spoke, a little breathlessly.

"Ya know we got a lot o' work left ta do taday." Dean said.

"Do we?" asked Castiel, kissing his way up Dean's chest from his belly.

"Yeah, lots."

Castiel sucked a bruise into Dean's throat, making him gasp. He placed his hands on Dean's hips pausing before he spoke.

"I guess we could stop." He said playfully. "If there's so much to do."

"For the love of god, don't stop." Dean groaned, already growing hard in his trousers.

"Mm, I like it when you beg." Castiel murmured.

"I don't know what's gotten inta ya Cas, but I like it." Dean said.

Castiel laughed and pulled Dean's trousers down around his legs, his underwear came next. Castiel knelt between Dean's legs, looking up at him coyly. He blew gently over Dean's erection, sending a shudder through him. He the base of Dean's cock in his palm and licked a stripe up his shaft. Dean gasped loudly at the sensation. This certainly was something new to him. Castiel licked up and down his cock a few more times before taking him in his mouth, just the tip at first. Castiel bobbed his head a few times, taking more and more of Dean into his mouth each time.

Dean's vision nearly whited out, never before had he felt anything like this. The tight wet heat of Castiel's mouth, his tongue swirling around his head, tonguing the slit in the most lascivious way. Castiel hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard. Dean moaned so loudly he feared he might spook the horses. Castiel pulled off him, kissing up his shaft slowly. A bead of precum was gathering at the head of Dean's cock and caught it with his tongue, lapping like a hungry cat.

"God Cas," he said.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh god yes!" Dean nearly shouted. "Do you know what you do to me?"

In answer Castiel took Dean into his mouth again, drawing him deeper than Dean believed possible. He worked him faster now, stroking Dean's cock between every bob of his head. It was so good Dean wanted it to last, but l\already he could feel a tightening in his belly. Castiel never slowed, just kept drawing him deep into the tight vacuum of his throat, swallowing around his cock and making Dean shake violently. Dean was overcome, he wanted to praise Castiel, tell him how good he was doing, but he was no longer capable of speech. He writhed and shuddered in the hay like a common harlot, but he didn't care. It was so good and he was so close. He tried to speak, but failed when reached back and palmed his testicles, tight with his impending orgasm. He tried again and managed to grit out a few words.

"Gonna come."

"Mhm." Castiel countered, Dean's cock still in his mouth.

He looked up at Dean, pink lips stretched exquisitely around Dean in a way that nearly took is breath away. Dean's orgasm slammed into him a moment later, his back arched and his nails scrabbled for purchase on the wood planks beneath him as he shot his load down Castiel's throat.. Castiel stayed put, riding him through his orgasm, milking him for every least drop and swallowing everything Dean gave him. He pulled off a moment later, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Dean reached up and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. He could taste himself on Castiel's tongue and that shouldn't have been as erotic as it was.

Castiel tucked him back into his trousers and smiled down at him. Dean returned his smile languidly.

"Cas that was amazin'" he said.

"Glad you liked it." Replied Castiel. "Now I suppose we should get back to work."

"What about you?" Asked Dean surprised.

Castiel shook his head. "This was for you." He said. "I'll check on the herd, you just relax."

"Wait," Dean said, placing his hand on Castiel's arm to stop him. "At least stay a little while longer."

Castiel nodded. "Alright."

Dean held out his arms and Castiel let himself be enveloped in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. They lie quiet for a while before either of them spoke.

"I never thought it could be like this." Castiel said.

"Like what?" asked Dean, though he was sure he knew.

"That I could be happy like this with another person. I always figured I'd be killed in the gang, or end up marrying some woman I didn't love."

"I know a little bit bout what that feels like, an I'm glad it ain't the case wit us."

"Me too." Replied Castiel. "I just wish…"

"What?" Dean asked leaning back so that he could look Castiel in the eye.

"I wish we didn't have to hide, I wish we could do things that other people can do."

"What things?"

"Going out together, being seen together, getting married."

Castiel said the last part so quietly that Dean was scarcely sure he heard him. "Married?" he asked, a little thrill in his chest at the sound of it.

"Well, yeah." Castiel replied uncertainly. "I know it sounds silly, but I've always wanted to be married to someone I love and I know I never will be."

"Well, why not?" Dean asked, inspiration striking him suddenly. "Why cain't the two of us tie the knot?"

"Are you serious?"

"O'course I am." Replied Dean.

"We don't have a preacher, we're not in a church, I don't think it counts otherwise." Said Castiel.

"Aww ta hell wit all that. We don't need it. Long as we make the same promise fore the eyes o' God, we're married in my book." He picked up a few pieces of hay and began weaving them together. A moment later he presented Castiel with a small woven ring. "So how bout it Cas, will ya marry me?"

Castiel was smiling fit to burst and Dean could see the shine of tears in his eyes. "Yes." He said. "Of course I will."

Dean took Castiel's hand in his and began speaking. "I Dean Winchester, promise to love ya, an hold ya, all the days o' the rest o' my life." He recited and slipped the straw ring onto Castiel's finger.

Castiel gathered a few pieces of hay and wove his own ring, as Dean had done. He took Dean's hand and spoke.

"I Castiel Milton, promise to love you, and hold you all the days of the rest of my life." He repeated and placed Dean's ring on his finger.

"There." Dean declared joyfully. "I'm yer husband now."

"And I'm yours." Replied Castiel.

Castiel threw himself into Dean's arms with such gusto, they both tumbled backward into the hay. Dean laughed and kissed his husband.

"I love you." He said.

"And I love you." Replied Castiel.

"So," Dean began. "What are these married men ta do now?"

"Well, I still need to check on the herd." Castiel said. "So how about I go do that and I'll meet you up at the house in a little while."

"Alright, an don't think I ain't returnin' the favor when ya git there." Dean promised with a wink.

"I'm looking forward to it." Castiel said.

He leaned in for one last kiss and a moment later he was gone.

Dean lay there a few more moments basking in the warmth of his happiness before he got moving. He climbed down the ladder and gave Baby a pat on his way out of the barn. He headed back up to the house, stopping on the way to pick some wildflowers that grew on the property. He entered the house and headed to the kitchen. They hadn't eaten supper yet and he considered putting something on, but he figured they would have little time for eating that night. With a smile he took a chipped mug from one of the cupboards and filled it with water from the pitcher on the counter. He dropped the flowers into it and headed for the bedroom. He placed the flowers on the nightstand and sat down to wait for Castiel.

Twenty minutes later Castiel still had not returned. Concerned there may be a problem with the herd, Dean headed back outside to investigate. He headed down toward the pasture, scanning the fields for Castiel. He didn't see him. He kept walking, getting closer and still saw nothing.

"Cas?" he called out. "Cas!"

He waited a few seconds, and received no reply. Worry settled in his stomach as he finally reached the paddock. There was no sign of Castiel anywhere, he was about to turn around and look for him elsewhere when the glint of something shiny caught his attention. He moved toward it, a silver chain hung from a nail in one of the fence posts and at the end of that chain, hung a very familiar silver crucifix. Horror descended upon him, the leaden weight of fear heavy in his stomach. He looked at it more closely, saw the words engraved upon it, the insidious promise of vengeance, and the name.

Lucifer

"No!" he cried, tears stinging his eyes, panic clawing at his heart. "Cas!"


	9. The Day the World Went Away

Chapter Nine:

The Day the World Went Away

"Absence and death are the same, only that in death there is no suffering."

\- Walter S. Landor

* * *

Dean turned blindly and ran back the way he'd come. It felt like his brain was short-circuiting, he could hardly think to come up with a plan. He just knew that he had to find Castiel, find him before it was too late. He reached the stables and saddled his horse as quickly as he could, hands fumbling over straps and buckles. At last when Baby was saddled he mounted up and gave her an almighty kick, sending her galloping from the stable. Though he was incapable of rational thought, there was someone nearby who was. He rode for Bobby's ranch with all haste.

He arrived a few minutes, thankful of the numerous trips he'd made there, making it easier to navigate in the twilight. He slowed down enough to jump down from his horse, looping the reins carelessly over a nearby fencepost. He rushed toward the door, knocking with enough force he threatened to break it down. Several agonizingly long moments later, the door was answered. Bobby stood before him, a confused look on his face and a shotgun in his hands. When he saw Dean he lowered the weapon, relieved.

"What the hell ya tryin' ta do, break the door down?" he asked gruffly.

"They've taken him." Dean said, trying to keep from shouting. "They've taken Cas. Bobby you gotta help me. I gotta git im back, please."

"Alright, alright, jus calm down a minute. Come inside an tell me what happened." Bobby replied calmly.

Dean pushed past him into the house and waited for Bobby to join him.

"Now what's this all about, who's got Cas?"

"Gang he used ta run wit, they found us, took im. I gotta find em." Dean was babbling, but he didn't care.

"When?"

"Not more'n a half hour ago." Dean said seized with a fresh wave of panic he made for the door. "I gotta git out there an look fer im, I'm wastin' time."

Booby grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him.

"Easy killer." He said. "You ain't goin' nowhere till mornin'."

"Are ya jokin' they'll be halfway across the country by then, if they ain't kilt im already."

"Yeah an if ya go out there lookin' fer im now, all ye'll do is git yaself lost. It's dark, ya cain't track anythin, in the dark. Ye'd jus be runnin' round in circles, an that don't do no one any good."

"But, I have ta find im." Dean said desperately. "Ya don't understand."

"Yeah, I do." Replied Bobby gently. "Ya think I didn't know bout you two? I know how much ya care fer im."

"You knew?" Dean asked, though he couldn't say he was entirely surprised.

"I know ya better than ya know yaself sometimes. I jus don't know why ya felt like ya had ta lie."

"I didn't know if ye'd be like Pa." Dean said.

"They's a lot o' things me an yer Pa didn't see eye ta eye on."

"Don't I know it."

"C'mere." He said.

Bobby directed Dean to a chair in the kitchen and sat him down. He put a kettle on the stove and joined him.

"Listen ta me." Bobby began. "Ye'll find im, I know ya will."

"How?" asked Dean helplessly.

"Cause I ain't ever seen anyone could ride like ya kin, er track like ya kin, an Lord knows I ain't seen anyone as stubborn since yer Pa passed." Bobby said. "Ye'll find im."

"I have ta. I don't know what I'd do without im. I-I love im."

"I know ya do

Bobby gave Dean's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as the kettle began whistling shrilly. He got up to tend to it, while Dean sat silently, lost in his own mind. A moment later Bobby set a mug down before him.

"Drink this," he said. "Ye'll feel better."

Dean lifted the mug to his lips and tasted the sweetened liquid.

"Tea?" he asked. "Never made ya fer the type."

"Git ta my age an see if ya kin still handle that sludge ya call coffee."

Dean sat at the table, clutching his mug in still shaking hands. He knew the night before him was going to be the hardest of his life, but he had to get through it, for Castiel's sake. Dean looked down at his hand, the little straw ring looked so forlorn on his finger now. He slipped it off and clutched it in his palm and for the first time in his life, Dean Winchester prayed. When he finished he returned his ring to his finger and settled back in his chair.

And so began the long wait, both men sitting at the table, rarely speaking. Bobby would ask every so often if Dean needed anything, if he wanted to get some rest. Dean refused every time, there would be no rest for him until Castiel was safe once more. The minutes seemed to drag by achingly slow, every sluggish tick of the clock seemed to mock him. The dull sense of panic never left him, all through the night the sick weight stayed in his stomach. Dawn could not come soon enough.

At last with the first streaks of pink lightening the horizon, Dean stood. He bid farewell to Bobby, who promised to look after his farm while he was gone. He walked out the door and mounted his horse, a determination the likes of which he'd never felt propelling him onward. He knew now that he would not fail, he could not. Dean rode with haste back to his farm, back to that spot. The crucifix still hung there innocently. He took it and tucked it into his pocket.

Dean hunched over and began the arduous task of picking up the trail, with the predawn light still weak, this was harder than he'd hoped, but after several minutes he found something. Several feet away from where he'd found the crucifix, he found a patched of trampled grass and gouged earth. Blood coated a few broken blades of grass. There'd clearly been a struggle. He followed the footprints of two men, who appeared to have been dragging a third.

Dean followed them further and found what he'd been hoping for. Hoof prints in the dirt a few dozen yards from the paddock, they dragged Castiel onto one of the horses and taken off. Dean whistled for his horse and climbed aboard. With the light still weaker than he'd like, he spurred his horse into motion, following the distinct hoof prints. They had a night's head start, but it didn't matter. Because a silent fury had taken control of him, because now there was nothing on God's green earth that could stop him. He rode from his home out into the unknown, anger and fear his only companions.

* * *

Two days had passed, two of the longest days of Dean's life and he was still no closer to finding Castiel. They rode as if the devil himself were at their backs and it was all Dean could do to keep up. The first night he'd lost seemed to damn him. He was lucky to have a swift steed and a steady trail to follow, but he wondered if it would be enough. He was stopped for the night, unable to follow the trail in the dark. He told himself that he should sleep, that he would need his strength for what was to come, but every time he closed his eyes he saw Castiel, alone and afraid, crying out for him. It was something that had been lurking in the back of his mind for days, something he would not allow himself to think about.

He wished more than anything that Sam were with him. He'd faced hopeless situations before to be sure, but he always had his brother to turn to when things were at their worst. Now he had naught but himself and he was much poorer company indeed. The trail led in no definite direction, and Dean wondered for the thousandth time where they were taking him. He reasoned that if they'd planned to kill him, then they would have done so already, a small comfort to him now. Dean remembered what he had told him of his brother, Lucifer and feared that far worse than death awaited Castiel.

Dean removed all of his weapons from their various holsters and laid them out before him on the ground. He took out an old rag and a bottle of gun oil and like he'd done the night before, and what he'd do every night until this waking nightmare was over, he cleaned his guns. Methodically he went through them, one by one, wondering what action they'd see in the following days, wondered which bullet would be the one he put through Lucifer's skull. That was one decision he'd made, bounty aside, Lucifer would not see another winter. Nor would many of his brothers and sisters, all who fought with him would meet the same end.

Dean finished cleaning his weapons and moved on to sharpening his blades, anything to keep his hands busy and his mind occupied. He thought it would help, if he tried not to think about it, but the thoughts overwhelmed him anyway. With a sigh of frustration he returned his blades to their places on his belt and in his boot and returned the whetstone to his pack. He got to his feet and walked over to where he'd hitched his horse a few hours earlier. He removed his bedroll from the back of the saddle and returned to the fire. He laid his bedroll out and doused the fire. He lie down and looked up into the night sky, the stars twinkling merrily overhead seemed to mock him. He rolled over and closed his eyes, though sleep did not find him for a very long time.

Dean awoke just before dawn the following morning, surprised that he'd slept at all. He'd finally been overcome with exhaustion. He got to his feet and started gathering his things together. The moment there was enough light to see by, he wanted to be off. He packed his things onto his saddle, promising himself that this would be the last day. He could do this no longer, not another lonely night would he spend in the wilderness, it would end today. For happiness, or despair, it would end today. Dean mounted his horse as the sun began to inch up above the horizon and a few minutes later he was riding again. Dean wasn't sure how many miles he'd travelled, but knew it must have been at least a few hundred. He'd been moving steadily westward, following the trail left by the Wild Angels.

He followed the trail steadily till noon, then he saw it. A small town in the distance, he rode for it uneasily. Dean kept his gaze fixed on the ground before him, but as he neared the town the trail merged onto a road and other tracks began mingling with the ones he'd been following, till they were no longer discernible. The trail he'd followed for three days was lost and seemingly so were his chances of finding Castiel. He rode into Deadwood, the taste of failure bitter on his tongue. He stopped outside the saloon and hitched his horse out front. He'd lost the trail, but that meant the gang had come through here. He had a chance, albeit a small one, to find them. He hoped to God someone had seen something.

He entered the saloon and looked around. The room was dark and mostly bare. The bar stood to the left and a few rickety tables were scattered throughout the room. All of the furniture had seen better days and looked as though it had been broken and repaired more than once. A few men, looking rough with drink and hardship sat at the bar drinking their troubles away. Dean approached the counter and was met by a man with yellow skin and beady little eyes.

"What kin I git fer ya"? He asked, his tone oilier than his skin.

"Information." Dean replied. "I'm huntin' some men, mighta come through here the last day er two. Ya ain't seen anythin' have ya?"

"Well, a lot o' men pass through here every day." The bartender said. "Which ones would they be?"

"A gang," Dean said. "The Wild Angels gang. Heard o' them?"

"O' course I heard o' them. An what makes ya think I'd rat em out, git a bullet in the heard fer my troubles."

Dean laid a gold coin on the counter. "They got somebody wit em, plannin' on killin' im. I ain't gonna let that happen, so why don't ya tell me whatcha know?"

The man snatched the coin from the table. "Now that ya mention it, I think I know the men yer talkin' bout. Well they weren't all men, had ladies ridin' wit em too."

"That's right." Said Dean. "Where was they headin'?"

"Hmm, I mighta heard somethin' but I cain't rightly remember." The bartender said, winking knowingly at him. "The drink affects my memory ya know?"

Losing patience, Dean tossed another coin down. "Where was they headin'?" he asked again.

"Oh yes," the man said, taking the coin. "As I recall they was headin' fer the hills. Prob'ly aimin' ta hide out in one o' the old mines."

"Which one?"

"I dunno."

Dean grabbed him by his lapels, all sense of decorum gone. He shook the man roughly. "Which one?" he spat.

"I dunno, honest." The man gibbered. "But they's on'y one not full o' miners."

"Where?" Dean asked, giving him another violent shake.

"Homestake Mine." The man said. "Out in the Black Hills. Follow the Indian trails south, it's near Deadwood Gulch, ya cain't miss it."

Dean released the man and strode from the saloon without another word. He mounted his horse and spurred her into a gallop. He headed for the edge of town, headed south for the hills and hopefully the end of his journey. But the manner of that end was yet to be determined. He rode as hard as he dared push his horse, though the brush of the Black Hills. He followed the narrow hunting trails cut by the Sioux who dominated a tract of land large enough to support the buffalo herds on which they subsided. He slowed as the ground became rocky and uneven beneath him.

It was a half hour before he reached Deadwood Gulch and Dean could see why it had been given that name. Trees, dead and withered lined either side of the narrow canyon walls. Dean rode through, tension tightening in his chest with every mile he passed. He came out the other side of the canyon and saw it. Down a rocky incline, a few small buildings, dark and empty. Dean had found the mine. He rode carefully down the hill and stopped a quarter mile away from the mine's entrance. He reached back and dug through his pack a few moments before he found what he was looking for, a pair of binoculars.

He lifted them to his eyes and the area before him, looking for any sign of habitation. Just as he'd begun to convince himself that the man in the bar had been lying, he saw something. Behind one of the buildings, several horses tucked away out of sight. A wave of relief washed over him, he'd found them at long last. Now what he needed was a plan. He was a lone man, facing a gang of proven killers. Once he descended into the mine, there would be nowhere for him to hide. If he wasn't careful it'd become his tomb and Castiel's as well. A moment later he saw movement near the mine's entrance. He fixed his lenses on the spot, wondering if he'd imagined it.

But no, a moment later a man appeared at the entrance of the mine and another followed close behind him. One of the men had dark blonde hair and a cruel face and was shouting at the other man. A second later he raised his hand a brought the back of it down over the other man's cheek. The man's head snapped back with the force of the blow and he scurried away meekly toward the horses without a backward glance. The blonde man looked around him slowly before descended into the mines once more.

"Lucifer." Dean muttered under his breath. "I'm commin' fer ya." He promised.


	10. Man is Born Unto Trouble

Chapter Ten:

Man is Born Unto Trouble

"There is only one road away from trouble, and this is along the straight and narrow road."

\- Otto Wood

* * *

Dean checked over his weapons one last time, made sure that they wouldn't catch on anything when he tried to draw them, made sure they were sharpened, clean and loaded. He was only going to get one shot at this and he had to do it perfectly, he shuddered to think of what would happen if he failed. He hadn't had much time to devise a plan, Castiel had been there hours already and was running out of time. Dean hitched his horse to a nearby tree branch, steeled his resolve and began making his way down the hill.

He reached one of the mine buildings and took cover behind it. He had no way of know what lay on the other end of that mine shaft. There was nothing for it though. Dean took a deep breath and ran for the mine's entrance. He reached and his heart sank immediately. The pulley system had been replaced with an electric motor. Using the elevator would be too loud and would draw any nearby guards to his position. What little plan he had involved going unnoticed for as long as he could. He'd have to find another way down.

He entered the elevator and took a look around. It consisted of a metal platform with two metal beams welded to the sides of the platform. The beams connected a few feet above his head and the whole thing hung from thick metal cables. The platform, however was not as large as the shaft itself. He peered over the edge and found that there about a foot of clearance on each side. It would be tight, but he really didn't see any other way down. Dean unclasped the length of rope from his belt and unspooled it.

He fixed one end of the rope to the nearest steel beam and dropped the other end down into the shaft. Trying to ignore his deep seated fear of heights, Dean gripped the rope in his hands and stepped over the edge of the platform. Using the wall of the shaft to stabilize himself, he gently repelled down into the mine. His feet touched the ground a few minutes later and he breathed a sigh of relief. He slipped his jack knife from the sheath on his belt and crept forward, careful that his boots made no sound.

Dean moved silently down the narrow corridor in front of him, listening intently for any sign of movement. He heard nothing for several minutes when at last he came upon two guards. They were talking quietly and Dean crept up and crouched behind a nearby mine cart to eavesdrop. One of them, a woman with fiery red hair spoke first.

"He wants this shaft manned at all times." She said. "No one is to come through here, do you understand Zachariah?"

"I understand." The other guard replied. "Does Lucifer believe he'll come here? The Winchester?" Zachariah asked.

"Lucifer's thoughts are his own and his orders are yours to follow." The woman said. "Do not fail him."

With that, the woman was gone. Dean gripped his knife tighter in his palm and waited for her footsteps to die away. The man visibly relaxed once she was out of sight and Dean took this as his cue. He breathed deeply and in one swift movement, leapt out from behind the mine cart, grabbed the man from behind and deftly cut his throat. The man fell to the ground with a dull thud, he'd made no sound, having died too quickly to scream. Dean wiped the blood from his blade and continued on down the corridor in the direction the woman had gone.

He walked in silence for a few minutes when something suddenly collided with him. He reached blindly for it and realized it was a man. He raised his knife, ready to dispatch of him when the man spoke.

"Wait," he gasped, Dean's grip around his throat making speech difficult for him. "Don't kill me. I'm trying to save him too."

Dean loosened his grip slightly, but did not let go. "Save who?" he asked skeptically.

"Castiel." The man said. "I can't let them kill him."

"Who are you?"

"Gabriel." The man replied. "My name's Gabriel."

Dean let them man go, knife still raised. "You're Gabriel?" he asked.

"You've heard of me?"

"Cas told me bout ya. Ya helped im escape all this." Dean said. "He said you wasn't like the rest o' them."

"I'm not." Gabriel said defiantly. "And when did 'Cas' tell you all this?"

"Doesn't matter." Dean said. "We gotta find im." Dean set off down the corridor and Gabriel followed him, still talking.

"You're a Winchester aren't you?" Gabriel asked, recognition suddenly alighting his features.

"Name's Dean."

"Well how in the hell did you meet Castiel?"

"Long story."

"You two are friends?"

"Sorta."

"So you and he…?" Gabriel began.

Dean rounded on him. "Listen, this ain't the time," Dean said getting impatient. "If ya know where he is then say so, if not, then shut up."

"Sheesh, I wonder what he sees in you." Gabriel replied. "And if I knew where he was, then I wouldn't be wandering around in these tunnels, like you."

"A red haired woman came through this way, was talkin' bout Lucifer to another feller." Dean said. "Ya think she's headin' there?"

"Anna?" Gabriel asked. "It's possible, she's higher in rank than most of us. Even me, though I'm older. They don't really like me all that much."

"Then we're goin' this way." Dean said.

"Who was she talking to anyway?"

"Feller named Zachariah."

"Ugh, he's the worst." Gabriel said.

"He's dead." Replied Dean shortly.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

They made their way down the tunnel together, Gabriel making more noise than Dean was comfortable with, but at least he'd stopped talking. A few minutes later, they came to a split in the tunnel. They stopped and Dean turned to Gabriel.

"It'll take too long ta search each one individually." He said. "You take right, I'll go left. Meet back here in ten and tell me what ya found."

"Got it boss." Gabriel said with an exaggerated salute and took off into the tunnel.

"An don't git yaself kilt, neither." Dean whispered after him.

"Will do." Replied Gabriel, too loudly.

Dean sighed and turned toward his own tunnel. He gripped his blade tighter and set off. A few short minutes later, he realized he'd gone in the right direction. He heard voices up ahead of him, the same woman as before and another man. Dean inched forward quietly and turned a corner to see nothing. He still heard the voices though, and moved toward them. A moment later he realized the tunnel branched off in another direction and the voices came drifting to him from somewhere to his left. He stepped closer, straining his hearing to make out the words.

"Lucifer is teaching our brother a lesson." Anna said.

"Lucifer is a fool." The man replied harshly.

"Be careful of how you speak, Michael." Anna warned. "He is our brother and our leader."

"He lingers here when the Winchesters may be on their way." Michael said. "It is not wise."

"Do you fear them?"

"They are skilled fighters, one's we should be wary of."

"I never thought you a coward, Michael."

"Hold your tongue, sister." Michael spat. "There is a difference between wisdom and cowardice."

"They are words, nothing more. You reveal yourself through your actions." Replied Anna. "Or inactions."

"This will not end well." Michael warned. "For any of us."

Dean heard footsteps receding down the hall and wondered which one had left. A second later he got his answer. Anna appeared before him and in in instant he brought the handle of his knife down across her temple. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious. He dragged her into the corridor she'd come from. He hogtied her and gagged her with his handkerchief. He'd not kill a woman, but he'd not let her escape justice either. He'd leave her for the authorities to sort out. Sensing that he was getting closer, he moved on, unmindful of the arrangement he'd made with Gabriel.

Anna's words rang through his head. They were hurting Castiel, he'd known they would, but hearing the confirmation sent a wave of rage through him. It didn't matter that he had no backup, he couldn't wait. He walked in the direction Michael had gone, sheathing his knife. He drew his pistol from its holster, certain that he'd need it before the day was out. He walked and walked for what felt like hours, there were no turns or other tunnels, so he was certain he was going the right way. Just as he was wondering to himself how long this damn tunnel could be, he saw a light ahead of him.

He moved toward it, spirits lifting slightly. Dean came out into a large well lit cavern. He looked around and found many passages leading off in several different directions. He was contemplating which way to go when he heard a gunshot, echoing loudly off the stone walls. Instinctually he dove for cover behind an overturned mine cart as another shot was let off. The second shot ricocheted off the mine cart and he peaked his head over the edge to get a look at his enemy. He saw nothing, but the shots continued from several directions now. He'd been made and now he was pinned down. If he could get to one of the off shooting tunnels he could try and lose them, but risk getting lost himself.

He looked to the center of the room where another upward shaft to the surface had been cut. Another bare cabled elevator sat below it, though this one was different. To Dean's relief he saw that it did not contain a flat platform, but a large bucket for hauling up raw material. The walls of the elevator were a few feet high and he knew if he could get there it'd be a better vantage point than the one he held now.

He leaned back on his haunches, preparing himself for the move, when he felt a hand grip his shoulder tightly. He turned to find Gabriel looking at him disapprovingly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said. "Michael's a damn good shot, he won't miss."

"Well, I gotta git outta here." Dean replied, unconvinced.

"You should have met me back at the fork, I found a much quieter route. Not the damn welcome committee."

"Yeah, well hindsight's a bitch." Dean said. "What do we do now?"

"We have to fight our way out." Gabriel said.

"How we gonna do that, when the bastards are all hidin'?"

"We draw them out."

And without another word Gabriel was on his feet, standing tall seemingly without a care in the world. Dean had to hand it to the guy, he had guts. Luckily the firing stopped and he got to keep his guts a little longer. Gabriel looked around the cavern, as if bored.

"Really Michael?" he asked. "A trap? You know I never figured you for a coward, but maybe Anna's been right about you all along."

A bullet whizzed by Gabriel's head, almost deliberately, but he didn't move.

"You sit in you little cubby hole and fire your little shots and what? You think that's honorable? Stealing, killing? Our father taught us courage and honor and you and Lucifer have made damn sure we forgot every lesson he taught us. You are a disgrace to his name."

Another shot rang out in the otherwise silent room, coming close enough to Gabriel to ruffle his hair.

"Why don't you show yourself, all of you? Have some dignity for once."

The next moment several men revealed themselves from various hidy holes around the cavern. They did not look happy. A second later, the firing resumed with renewed vigor. Gabriel ducked down behind the mine cart once more.

"There," he said. "Now you can see them."

"Yeah, and now they're all pissed off."

"They were already pissed off." Replied Gabriel drawing a six shooter from the waistband of his trousers. "Least now we can kill em."

"Yer gonna kill yer own brothers?" Dean asked, slightly horrified. "Yer own family."

"Damn straight."

"Thanks fer the help."

And with that, both men stood each taking aim at a different target and fired several shots. Only a few seconds passed with each bout of shooting, but it felt like so much longer. Everything seemed to slow down, men moved as if through molasses and Dean felt his own arm heavy under the weight of his gun. When he pulled the trigger it was as if he could feel the bullet leave the chamber, could see exactly where it ended up, lodged in the stone wall, or in a man's gut, it was no different. Gabriel was almost as good a shot as Dean and he put two men down before reloading. Dean however found his mark with nearly every shot, not shooting to wound, or disarm, but shooting to kill.

Their enemies must have realized how foolishly they had reveled themselves and what remained of them scrabbled for cover as Dean and Gabriel continued to pick them off. Suddenly Dean saw movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned to look. Michael stepped from the mouth of one of the outer tunnels, a look of perfect rage on his face. He raised his gun and before Dean could get a shot off, he felt something hit him.

It was like a stiff punch in the arm, numbness spread from the wound and Dean had a hard time feeling his fingers. He dropped back behind the mine cart immediately, as did Gabriel. He took one look at Dean's arm and nodded.

"Got your shooting arm." He said. "He's toying with us."

"I kin shoot with both hands." Replied Dean, angrily switching his gun to his non dominant hand.

"As well?"

"We'll see."

They resumed the fight, Dean finding a little more difficult to shoot accurately with his left hand and he was forced to reload one handed, having lost the feeling in his right hand. They kept fighting though, Michael had disappeared again, but Dean did not forget him as he had foolishly done before. They finished off the rest of the gunmen and once more took cover. They shared a look, both knowing that Michael still lurked out there. They could not leave cover before he was dealt with.

"Where do ya reckon he is?" Dean asked.

"You're guess is as good as mine." Replied Gabriel. "He probably figured he had you beat when he took your good arm out. I doubt he expected you'd be able to keep fighting."

"I'm jus fulla surprises." Dean said with a grimace of pain."

Suddenly they heard footsteps nearby and then a voice.

"I really am surprised at you Gabriel." A cold sneering voice said. "Siding with the enemy."

"He's not the enemy, Michael." Gabriel said. "You are."

"You were always too strong willed, even for father." Michael said. "We should have killed you when we had the chance."

"Hindsight's a bitch." Gabriel retorted, mirroring Dean's words from earlier.

"So crass." Michael demurred. "And you have the gall to call me pathetic, call me a coward. You who stayed after what we did to you, too afraid to attempt escape twice. We all knew how you felt, knew you'd be a problem. I told Lucifer to deal with you, but he refused, foolish."

"He should have had you dealt with." Gabriel snarled. "Like he didn't know you covet his position."

"It is mine." Michael said. "It belongs to me."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"I will." Michael spat.

There was silence in the room for a minute before Michael spoke again.

"Do you remember that girl?" he asked softly. "In Duluth, when you tried to escape? What was her name, Chrissy, Katelin?"

"Katherine." Gabriel said to himself.

That's it, Katherine." Michael said, having heard him. "You thought we didn't know about her, didn't you? We knew she was the reason you tried to leave; you and Castiel and your big plan. Noble of you to stay behind so that he could leave, and foolish." Michael paused a moment. "Do you want to know what we did to her?"

Dean could feel the rage radiating from Gabriel in waves. He put a hand on his arm. "Don't." he whispered. "He's lying. He's goading you into showing yourself. Don't fall for it."

Gabriel wrenched his arm away as Michael continued speaking. "She begged and cried, cried for you mostly." He said. "We all had her, I understand what you saw in her, she was sweet. That little birthmark on her ankle, looked like a little flower, sweet." He said again.

Gabriel had gone rigid, his face had lost all expression. Dean feared he'd do something foolish, but he did not move.

"After I'd finished with her, I cut her throat. She didn't cry anymore."

Before Dean could stop him, Gabriel shot upward and began firing. Several gunshots rang through the caver and before Dean could get his gun up to help, Gabriel was slumped backward, bleeding. Dean got him safely into cover before looking him over. He'd taken a bullet in his shoulder, it was bleeding heavily.

"Yer a lucky sonofabitch." Dean said. "Bullet jus missed yer heart. Ye'll be alright, jus wait here."

"He's hit." Gabriel said, face contorted with pain. "Finish him for me, will you?"

"I will." Dean promised.

Dean stood and scanned the room. A goading voice reached him a moment later.

"Ah, the famous Dean Winchester. Here to save his beloved Castiel, you're breaking my heart."

Dean fired a shot toward the voice, but missed.

"Are you sure you even want to save him?" Michael asked. "Lucifer's had him quite a while, what you get back won't be what you lost."

Dean listened closely to his voice, judged the direction as best he could and took another shot.

"I think he's trying to kill me." Michael said. "Aww that's sweet. You know, I'll think I'll ask Lucifer for the honors of killing our wayward brother. I'll make it nice and slow and I'll make sure you have just enough life left in you, so that you can see my good work before you die."

Dean closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening. He raised his gun again.

"Give it up." Michael sneered.

Dean pulled the trigger.

"You're never going to-"

Michael's words were cut short, Dean heard a thump nearby and opened his eyes. He made his way to where the sound had come from and found Michael, clutching at his belly while blood streamed from between his fingers. Dean raised his gun, leveling it at his head.

"I should leave ya here ta suffer." Dean said. "Like that poor girl."

"Then do it."

Dean shook his head and pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into Michael's head, right between the eyes. He fell back, dead, a thin line of blood leaking from the hole in his head.

"Did you get him?" Gabriel called out.

"I got im."

"Good, Castiel's being held in a room to the east. Lucifer's alone, but he's smart. Be careful."

"I'll be back fer ya once I git im." Dean said. "Jus don't die."

"I'm working on it." Gabriel said. "And Dean, good luck."

Without another word, Dean headed for the easternmost tunnel, reloading his gun as he went. He walked for several minutes, the numbness in his arm giving way to a dull, persistent ache. About ten minutes later he saw light up ahead. He walked slowly toward it. A moment later he was pushing a door open, gun raised. He saw Castiel tied to chair, unconscious. There was no one else in the room. Unmindful of any trap, Dean rushed to Castiel's side.

"Cas." He said, taking Castiel's face in his hands. He was bruised and badly beaten, blood oozing from several gashes. "Aw Christ, Cas." He said louder and Castiel began stirring.

"Dean?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah it's me." Dean said. "I'm here. I'm sorry it took so long."

"Sok." Castiel said. "Where's Lucifer?"

"I don't know. Everyone else is dead, he's all that's left."

Castiel opened his eyes wider, his gaze losing the unfocused look. "Dean." He said, sounding frightened. "He's close, you have to."

"Easy Cas," Dean said, pulling out his knife to cut Castiel's bonds. "It's alright, I'll take care o' him later."

"No I mean he's here, it's a-"

"Trap." A voice finished from the corner of the room.

Dean froze.

"Stand up." The voice commanded.

Dean hesitated.

"Stand up, or I shoot him."

Dean stood.

"Turn around."

Dean turned to see the blonde man he'd spotted outside when he'd first arrived, his face even crueler up close.

"Honestly, I don't' understand what you see in him, little brother." Lucifer drawled. "He's not very bright."

"You sonofabitch." Dean spat, reaching for his gun. He levelled it at Lucifer's chest. They stood like that for a few seconds and Dean came to truly understand the term Mexican standoff.

"It's over." He said. "You heard me. Yer whole family's dead, jus let it go an we all walk outta here alive."

"I don't think so." Lucifer snarled, leveling his gun at Dean's chest.

"Let im go, at least." Dean said. "You had your fun an he ain't wronged ya like I have. Take me an let im go."

"How sentimental." Lucifer crooned. "But are you really willing to die for him, Winchester?"

"Damn straight."

"Dean no." Castiel said.

"It's alright, Cas." Dean told him.

"Fine." Lucifer said. "I kill you, I let him go."

Dean's heart skipped a beat, he hadn't expected that to work. He looked over at Castiel, knew that he would do anything to keep him safe.

"How do I know ya ain't lyin'?"

"You're just going to have to trust me."

Dean scoffed.

"Or I can shoot him here and now and you can watch him die before I do the same to you." Lucifer suggested. "Your choice."

"Fine." Dean said.

"No!" Castiel cried.

Dean couldn't look at him, it would make it too hard. He dropped his gun to the floor and stood straight backed and proud. He looked Lucifer in the eye, if he was going to die than he'd do it with his boots on and with dignity, like his Pa taught him.

"Do it."

Dean never heard the shot, just felt the warmth in his abdomen, spreading out from one point. Everything went a little fuzzy, he heard voices, but couldn't make out the words. He struggled to keep standing, but failed. He fell to the floor, vision clearing enough to see who stood above him, sneering down at him. Lucifer spoke and Dean heard his voice as if from a great distance.

"You didn't think I'd make it easy, did you?" Lucifer said. "That you wouldn't suffer?"

He laughed then and all Dean wanted was to see Castiel's face again. He tried to turn toward him, but moving was becoming difficult. Lucifer laughed coldly and raised his gun again. Another shot rang out, but not from Lucifer's pistol. He staggered back, a blossom of red appearing just over his heart. Dean finally managed to turn his head and saw Castiel, free of his bonds and holding aloft the gun Dean had dropped moments ago. Dean looked back at Lucifer who gazed at his brother, not with anger, but mild surprise. Castiel fired two more shots and Lucifer hit the floor with a dull thud.

The next thing Dean saw was Castiel, kneeling over him and he was glad. Looking up into that face he knew it was worth it. He opened his mouth.

"Cas." He said.

"Shh." Castiel replied. "Don't speak, save your breath. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"It's okay." Dean said. "Really."

"No!" Castiel said. "I'm not going to let you die, I won't."

Dean's breathing was becoming more labored, each breath he took rattled through his chest. He tried to speak again, but no words came out. He tried again, he had to.

"I love you." He croaked out.

Castiel was weeping, bitter tears dropping onto Dean's face, they were warm. Dean tried to lift his hand to wipe them away, but was unable to.

"Don't, please. I promise I'll save you, just hold on." Castiel said through his tears. "It's my turn, you saved me, now I have to save you."

"You already did." Dean whispered

Castiel was shouting, but Dean couldn't hear him. His vision faded around the edges, then went dark. And Dean knew no more.

* * *

 **A/N:** There will be a short epilogue up in the next few days. Thanks for sticking with me this far.


	11. A Day of Perfect Peace

**A/N:** Here we are, at the end. I have loved writing this and I hope you guys liked reading it. Thanks.

* * *

Epilogue:

A Day of Perfect Peace

"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."

― Frank Herbert

* * *

Dean opened his eyes slowly, his head felt tender and heavy, the way it does after you've slept too long. It took a moment for his vision to clear and he looked up at the ceiling, wondering where he was, or what had happened for that matter. He cast his mind back as far as it would go, but his mind had not yet shaken all its cobwebs off. The last thing he remembered was Cas, Cas was gone. Dean shot up in bed, or he tried to, but a jolt of pain through his midsection stopped him. He groaned his discomfort and lay back down. A moment later he heard footsteps outside the door. Castiel opened the door and saw him, relief and joy plain in his features.

"Dean!" he cried happily and launched himself across the room. He hugged Dean gently, mindful of his wounds and Dean held him as tightly as he could, liable to never let him go. They parted a moment later.

"Cas?" Dean asked, the panic in his chest eased. "Yer alive, thank God."

"Course I am." Castiel said with a smile.

"What happened?" Dean asked. "I don't really remember."

"Lucifer and the gang found me at the ranch and they took me." Replied Castiel. "You found me."

"Did I git shot?"

"Twice, Michael and Lucifer both." Said Castiel somberly. "I thought Lucifer killed you. Dean I was so scared, I thought I'd lost you."

"I ain't goin' nowhere." Dean taking Castiel's hand.

"I love you." Castiel said.

"I love you too, Cas."

Castiel leaned down and kissed Dean softly, as if he were afraid he'd break him. Dean wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. Having Castiel here in his arms like this, made all the pain and worry drain from him. This was all he needed, for the rest of his life. They parted and there was silence for a moment before something occurred to Dean.

"There was somethin' else though," he said. "Weren't there another feller?"

"Gabriel, he got hurt too, but he's alright. He's staying with us at the ranch, I hope you don't mind."

"If memory serves me right. He helped me save ya." Dean said, memories slowly beginning to trickle into the forefront of his consciousness. "He kin stay as long as he likes. Sides, we're gonna need all the help we kin git on that farm."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that."

Dean heard another set of footsteps outside the door, their voices having travelled to the other room. Bobby stepped through the open doorway a moment later, followed by Sam. Dean felt his spirits lift further than he thought they could and his face broke out in a radiant smile.

"Sammy!" he said happily.

"When'd you git here?" he asked.

"Bobby wrote me as soon as ya took off." Sam said.

"That's a week's journey." Dean said puzzled. "How long I been out?"

"A while." Bobby replied. "Thought ya weren't gonna make a few times, got a touch o' fever from the wound, but hell kid youse as tough as yer Pa."

Dean laughed. "I dunno bout that." He said.

"How bout we try'n git ya outta this bed fer a while." Bobby said. "Sit ya on the porch, sun'll do ya good."

"I like the sound o' that." Replied Dean. "And hell, I could use a drink."

They chuckled as Bobby left the room and returned a moment later with a rickety wooden wheelchair. Dean scoffed when he saw it.

"That really necessary?" he asked.

"Damn right." Bobby said. "You ain't walkin' nowhere fer another week at least."

"What?"

"You should listen to him." Castiel said, giving Dean's hand a pat. "He knows what he's talking about, he's the reason you're alive."

"A week though?"

"It'll be fine, I'll be here the whole time."

"Well good." Replied Dean slightly mollified.

Sam and Castiel helped Dean out of bed and into the chair and Castiel proceeded to wheel him out onto the porch. The sun was high in the sky and Dean could smell honeysuckle on the air. Sam and Castiel sat themselves in the porch rockers on either side of Dean.

"So." Dean began. "How the hell did we git outta that mine anyway?"

"Gabriel heard the shot. He found us and helped me get you into a mine cart and we wheeled you out of there." Castiel said. "It wasn't easy getting you on a horse mind you, but it was the only way we could get to Deadwood fast enough."

"Well, how did we git here then?"

"We moved you here in a wagon, soon as you were strong enough. Bobby said he could take better care of you than those hacks and he was right."

"How's Gabriel?"

"He's good." Castiel said. "He hasn't said much, I think it's strange for him to be out of the gang. I don't think it's really sunk in that it's over."

"Ya know," Sam began. "I cain't believe after all that time we spent huntin' those sons o' bitches, ya turn up an kill em all yerself."

"What kin I say Sammy, I'm a legend o' the west."

"Don't encourage him." Castiel said. "He's had enough danger."

"If I didn't love ya so much, I'd take offense ta that." Dean said, affronted.

"Well, if I didn't love you so much I wouldn't be saying it."

Dean chuckled and leaned over for a small kiss, despite Sam's presence.

"Eugh." Sam said. "I don't wanna have ta see my big brother doin' that, cut it out."

"Sorry Sammy." Dean apologized. "How's California anyway?"

"It's great." Sam said, glad to change the subject. "School's goin' good an me an Jess, well…"

"What?"

"We're gettin'; married."

"That's great Sammy." Dean said thrilled. "Please tell me I'll be fit ta travel by then."

"Are you kiddin'? I wouldn't let ya miss it."

Dean sighed and adopted his most paternal look. "I kin tell ya all about married life, son."

"What?" Sam asked with a laugh.

Dean looked at Castiel, who still wore his little straw ring and they shared a smile. He looked down at his own and then back at his brother.

"It's a commitment not to be taken lightly, young man." He said.

"Geez, even Pa never sounded like that."

Dean laughed as Bobby stepped out onto the porch with a tray loaded with sandwiches. He dropped his wares onto a table before Dean.

"Figured ya'd be hungry, ain't had solid food in a while."

Upon seeing the food Dean's stomach gave an almighty growl as if to prove Bobby's point. He grabbed a sandwich and tucked in.

"Thanks Bobby." Through a mouthful of food.

"Don't mention it." Replied Bobby. "An if ya ever scare me like that again, I'll kill ya myself. Ya idjit."

"Good to know."

"Don't worry about him, you'll have me to deal with." Castiel warned.

"And me." Sam chimed in.

"Now ya'll are threatenin' me into not dyin'?"

"Yep." Bobby said. "Now eat up. Oh, by the by, I got a letter from Jess fer ya Sam."

Sam looked up excitedly. "Really?" he asked.

"Sure, came in this mornin'."

"I'll be back in a while." Sam said giving Dean's shoulder a light squeeze. "Damn, I'm glad yer alright." He said and was gone.

Dean and Castiel were left alone on the porch. Dean looked at himself in his wheelchair and Castiel rocking languidly in his chair and had to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Castiel asked.

"I'm havin' visions o' the future." He said. "You an me, old men jus sittin' on the porch."

"Watching the sun set, maybe have some iced tea." Castiel added with a smile.

"The smell o' lilacs in the air." Said Dean, returning his smile.

"That doesn't sound too bad." Castiel noted, reaching over and taking Dean's hand.

Dean gave his hand a little squeeze, looking into those soft blues eyes that he loved so much.

"No it don't."


End file.
